Invisible Writing
by debbiechan
Summary: AU romance. Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo: Ishida. Other characters: Aizen, Gin, Ichigo. Warnings: Sexual innuendo, violence, reference to character death
1. Chapter 1

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Sexual innuendo, violence, references to character death

F_or Incandescens, whose reiatsu is like Ichigo's and causes others' creative energy to grow_

F_innigan Geist is my trusty beta, and I will never misspell your name again, honeybun._

A/N: I apologize for the formatting of this story the first time it was uploaded on ff . net. I forgot that this site does not allow for double spacing between paragraphs, and I use divisions frequently for changes in POV. I hope I have fixed the problem.

Part One

Wherever she went, Hollow merchants recognized the white robes of Aizen's chosen Arrancar. At every table, the Hollow bowed, offering their finest goods and asking for no capital. Before Orihime now, prostrating its eight squirming limbs, was one calling itself a _soul seller_.

"Does Madam want a slave?" Its thin voice fawned. "Fresh from the Living World, fresh hot souls, still unbroken, still untouched--I have newly dead, I have Shinigami, I have all manner of souls . . . ."

Until that moment, Orihime had believed that the glum-faced beings who waited upon her in Las Noches did so willingly. She put down the spool of blue thread she had been examining and swept her gaze over the mass of collared souls. They were chained to one another by their necks, arms, and feet. She wondered how they had learned to walk in unison and if they were all friends.

T_here are too many. Aizen-sama will notice if I bring them all back with me._

Hand trembling, she pointed to one who was staring at her with the most abject expression. A black-haired boy--mouth dropped open in horror, dark red wounds showing though holes in his sleeves and pants-legs. He wore rectangular eyeglasses that had survived, amazingly, whatever had shredded his skin and clothes.

"That one."

"Excellent choice." The Hollow yanked a chain, and the boy stumbled forward. "Looks skinny but it's a tough soul. Found it on a pile of slain humans after yesterday's battle, and its reiatsu is formidable. Is Madam looking for a palace sentinel?"

"No," Orihime said in a tiny voice. "I was looking for curtains." It was the first time she had ventured outside Las Noches. She had been wanting to decorate the palace for weeks now, and Aizen had suggested that the Hueco Mundo Open Market could provide her with novel materials. "I could use …" Orihime didn't know what she was going to do with the boy once she got him to Las Noches. "He might …"

"No need to explain." The Hollow swept a hand over the boy's head--a fond gesture--and the boy jerked away, eyes narrowing.

W_hat am I getting myself into? _The cool defiance in her new slave's eyes frightened Orihime a little. _What if he's dangerous? What if Aizen-sama finds out?_

"Orihime-sama," spoke the white-robed Arrancar at her side. "Shall I have the soul seller deliver the slave or will you be taking it now?"

"Deliver him." Orihime looked away from the rows of slaves. Her world was turning upside down, and she had no idea why. "Have him brought directly to my rooms." Her voice did not sound as trembly as she felt, so she continued with deliberate casualness. "I want the wreathes of plastic flowers too. All of them … and the reams of fabric and the spools of thread and all the cups and mirrors, even the broken ones." She gestured to a table of goods. "Bring it all."

She turned to walk away.

"Inoue-san!" The shout was loud enough to hurt her ears. She looked back to see a Hollow arm strike the boy across the head.

"Don't hurt him!" Orihime gasped. "Please!"

"Forgive me, Madam." The Hollow's hand was clasping the slave's head. The boy was on his knees, staring at Orihime with such an odd expression--frantic, enraged. _What did he call me?_

"This spiritedness is common in new captives," the Hollow said, "but if Madam would prefer a less insolent servant--"

"No, I want that one." Orihime averted her eyes from the boy's burning gaze _(Why is he so angry with me?)_ and gathered her long white skirt. "Have him brought to my rooms and have someone draw a bath."

A _bath, _she thought as she hurried back to Las Noches, the only haven and home she had ever known. _Yes, he is filthy and needs a nice bath._

------

The dust and darkness of Hueco Mundo had been shrouding his grief.

Ishida Uryuu knew his own name, that he was a Quincy, and that his body stung from cuts and bruises, but he wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. The reiatsu-dampening collar around his neck made it impossible for him to measure his own power or that of the souls bound to him by chains.

A snap of a bolt and he was separated from the other slaves.

"You're a lucky kid," said one. "Off to the palace to serve a beautiful girl. The rest of us will probably be eaten if we can't be sold as slaves."

E_aten? _Ishida's mind stored away that puzzle for later. Right now he needed to figure out how to help Inoue-san recover her senses. He had not wanted to say a word to her, to reveal her identity in case her very soul was in peril, but then that Arrancar had called her _Orihime-sama _and Ishida had known.

S_he's lost her memory_. Her eyes, although full of concern for him, did not recognize him. And the way she had gathered the fabric of her cloak in her fingers--as if she'd been comfortable in those clothes for some time, as if it mattered to her that the hem not drag the dusty ground as she walked away.

Was she a ghost? Was she an Arrancar? Did she remember anything about her life in the Realm of the Living? It could not have been pure chance that Orihime-sama had chosen him for a slave, could it?

Pure chance or not, Ishida felt a thrill of possibility after so many hard hours of defeat. He could accomplish something here. He could protect this Orihime-sama even if he had failed to protect… . He grimaced as he was being led through dusty streets by the soul seller's two-armed assistant. It would do no good to think about the weeks of hard battle--Ryuuken dead, Kurosaki missing, the reason Ishida himself had been captured…

At the palace entrance, a guard tried to take Ishida's glasses.

"They're mine," he said as the Hollow's hands reached for them.

"You don't own anything," the Hollow said.

"Actually," came a light female voice, "they're _mine_."

Ishida was shocked to see her. Apparently she had been waiting for him. She was smiling, infinitely happier-looking than she had been outside. Her cloak was gone, and the white sheath she wore was tight-fitting and sleeveless. Her upper arms looked pink and healthy.

S_he's been cared for here. _

Ishida's gaze traveled down the length of her white dress. A narrow skirt fell to ankles that were covered in thick black stocking material. She wore odd black, low-heeled slippers. They were made of a glistening material like patent leather.

T_hey haven't ruined her. Thank God, they haven't hurt her._

Ishida stayed with his head down, staring at Inoue-san's feet. For some reason, the moment was truly humbling. Here, standing before him, was a reason not to despair. She was alive. He would find a way to get her out of Aizen's clutches.

"He's mine and so are his eyeglasses and all the things I got at the market today," the airy voice went on. "You don't have to register him with the other servants. He's staying with me."

Ishida felt his collar being tugged, and this time he was being led by his new owner through a high-ceilinged, austere corridor.

She was laughing. It was the laugh he had heard when she spotted classmates in the hallway before lunch and the adventure of free period was before her. "Hi Totopo!" She waved at Hollows standing guard at doorways. "Hi Menudo!"

"You don't have to worry about anyone taking your eyeglasses," she said in a quieter voice, obviously addressing Ishida although she was still waving at the guards. "Aizen-sama makes the servants wear ugly short skirts, but he is a kind father to me and lets me around the rules a lot. I can make you a new outfit with some of the fabric I got today."

Ishida tripped on his chained feet, causing his owner to brake and look at him.

"Father?" he said. His voice sounded parched and tired.

"Yes, Aizen-sama is my father. Many of us here are made by him. There's a _huge_ secret room where that happens, I'm told, but I only know this part of the palace. Oh look at you! Why are you so sad? Do you miss your home?" She turned and continued to lead Ishida through another less populated hall.

"I'm going to be kind to you, you must know," she said in a bell-like voice. "My rooms are not far from here, and my servants live with me _althoughhhh _…" She placed her finger on her lip. "I suppose you must have your own room since the other servants are girls. I think they might be scared of a boy… Over there is where Gin-sama lives--he's hardly ever there, though--he's always with my father--and beyond that, this hallway opens into the Assembly of Loyalty--Tousen-sama was in charge of that place before he was killed in the war--and just beyond that is where I live. I'm redecorating it. There's not enough color in this place, don't you think? Aizen-sama is so fond of white…."

Ishida didn't know what to think. All he knew was that he would follow this vision of Inoue Orihime anywhere. Between the waves of horror he felt as she guided him through Aizen's palace, he tried to believe with a resolute joy: _It's her. She's alive. She's alive, and I can still save her._

------

When Orihime thought about it at all, she assumed that she was happy. No one but Gin-sama smiled more than she did, and Aizen-sama was a patient teacher and an indulgent father. He told her that the universe was going to change for the better, that there would be no more suffering forever and ever, and that the war was a necessary, temporary unpleasantness.

S_top trembling_. _The pain is inevitable, and the soul is immortal. Your kindness and grace restore patience and hope. You and I will re-invent whole worlds._

Blood was spilled on occasion on the frosty floors of Las Noches, but Orihime had learned to avert her eyes. She knew how to perform when called upon to summon her healing shield. She knew not to hold her head too proudly when the Espada cast her envious glances.

Y_ou are my chosen one, my princess. I, your father, treasure you above all the Arrancar in Las Noches._

Time passed in an endless, monochromatic stream--white clothing, gray shadows, and the ceaseless night above. One time, she had complained to Aizen-sama about the absence of color, and he had touched her bright hair, rubbed a strand of it between his fingers.

Y_ou're different. A special child. You create your own energy instead of reflecting it._

A silver faucet was singing a current of steaming water, and the tub was almost full.

"Orihime-sama?" Almatriste leaned into the mist and made a skeptical face. "This water is too hot. It would melt an Espada. It's going to kill that boy."

"No it's not." Orihime unsnapped the collar around her slave's neck and handed the metal object to her Arrancar servant.

"_Querida_, what are you doing? He's fresh from the Living World! He could be--I'm not a fighter! What if he gives us trouble?"

"He won't."

Orihime touched the dark flesh where the collar had pressed against the boy's skin. A sudden pinkness flushed the area--as if the touch had embarrassed him. Orihime looked up to see that the boy's whole face was red.

"You're a living soul," she said, surprised. She could sense his reiatsu now. It was as great as any of Aizen's generals.

The boy was looking at her as if asleep with his eyes open. "I am?" His gaze was mild compared to the defiant stare he had given the soul seller earlier. There were whole worlds in those dark blue eyes. He was innocent--Orihime was certain of this--and yet she felt afraid. Her hand pulled away.

The collar snapped back on--surprising both the slave and slave-owner.

"Aizen-sama would not approve!" scolded Almatriste. She was a tiny Arrancar--the spirit hole in her neck reaching only to the slave's midriff--and she had to stretch her arms to adjust the collar back onto the boy. "It's a male, and it's untamed. You shouldn't go around bringing creatures like this home, _Querida_. It will be a bother for me to train, and look at it--skinny and useless. Lastimada and I can attend to you perfectly well without it and--"

"I know," said Orihime, her eyes still locked with the strange boy's. _What does he know?_

"You can send it back," huffed Almatriste.

"I know," said Orihime. "I still want him."

The boy lowered his eyes. Orihime had the feeling that he was eager to say something to her but that he wouldn't speak in front of the other servant.

"It's alright, Almatriste." Orihime reached for a washcloth. "I'll train him myself and you don't have to do anything."

"Are you _serious?_" Almatriste snatched the cloth from her mistress' hand. "Get out now. Washing a thing like this is my business. You're our _princess. _If you want to make yourself useful, you can go find him some clothes that fit, and then you can heal these ugly marks he has." The old servant turned to the new one. "You! I'm going to un-cuff your hands and feet, but if you try anything funny, you'll be fed to the Hollow outside the door, hear me?"

Before Orihime left the room, she turned to watch the boy compliantly remove his tattered clothes.

There was a poignant arch to his spine as he bent to remove his shoes. A captive now, he had certainly been a great warrior once. There was no doubting the stunning reiatsu Orihime had felt right before the collar was snapped back on.

A living soul….

There was no Arrancar hole anywhere on his white, thin body.

Orihime turned around and felt her trembling start again. The room was hazy and warm from the steaming water, and worlds, whole worlds, of questions were lost in the mist.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Sexual innuendo, violence, references to character death

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Two

Why couldn't he talk to her?

Inoue-san believed that she was Aizen's _daughter_, and Ishida needed to break her blithe trance if he was going to convince her to escape with him, but every time she smiled and babbled about how the barred windows in her rooms would look better with shutters, his heart hesitated. Breaching her world would involve emotional violence. Every time his mouth opened to speak the word _Inoue-san_, Ishida fell dumb to her beautiful, happy face.

What was he supposed to do? Grab the princess by the shoulders and shout that the person she knew as her father was a genocidal villain? That she was unconsciously abetting his wickedness?

Ishida told himself that he was biding his time, that he needed to assess his environment and plot a rescue likely to succeed. No need to be rash. No need to be like _Kurosaki_, whose methods were clumsy, valiant, and doomed. The bastard was just lucky, and that last time--

Ishida fingered the cord around the waist of his loose tunic. It was a simple robe that fell below his knees, and Inoue-san had sewed it out of a coarse fabric from the Living World. Earth fabric, earth thread. The Hollow were plundering the world as Aizen's war raged, and for some reason, objects and people didn't need to be converted into spiritrons in order to enter Hueco Mundo as they did before coming to Soul Society….

I'_m a living soul. That means my powers are intact. No one here knows who I am or what my potential is. _

Even the soul seller--obviously a dolt at sensing reiatsu--had not guessed Ishida's true power. Coming to consciousness in Hueco Mundo, Ishida had felt the many-armed soul seller poking his chest here and there and warbling "Oooh, this one is a strong one; we can sell him to the palace!" Then the reiatsu-dampening collar had snapped on.

Ishida's hand rose from the cord at his waist to the collar at his neck. Inoue-san's annoying little Arrancar handmaidens didn't trust him without it, but it would be easy to get Inoue-san to remove it again. All he had to do was _ask._

I _was falling among the dead in a battle with Arrancar, and now here I am in Hueco Mundo with Inoue-san. It must be my destiny to rescue her._

Ishida was still having trouble processing what exactly had happened to him. How had his body been removed from the battle scene? There had been many killed; perhaps mercenary Hollow waited in the shadows during skirmishes and hauled away the freshly dead?

He swallowed hard as he tried to remember when the war began. He could see Kurosaki giving Ryuuken a soul burial. Ryuuken's spirit, with a begrudging reluctance, still so prideful in the afterlife, had bowed before the hilt of the Shinigami's zanpakutou and then….

Ishida shut his eyes. That was when he had counter-attacked too recklessly, and then….

Inoue-san ascending to Hueco Mundo in a column of light… that monster's arm around her shoulder….

Weeks of Kurosaki missing, presumed dead, Arrancar raid after raid on Earth and so many, many innocent dead….

N_o, Kurosaki's not dead. He's too damn lucky._

"Here, Uryuu!" Ishida's reverie was broken by a loud voice and a garland of plastic flowers falling into his lap. Almatriste was standing over him. "I want these pretties on my curtains. Lastimada doesn't want any flowers on hers--just a ribbon trim like you sewed for Orihime-sama."

Ishida stared at the bright pink, very fake roses from the Living World. "These are poor quality," he said. "The spirit materials of your original robe are more durable. I'm sure you can have your mistress design--"

"You don't get it." Almatriste swished around in the long blue skirt Inoue-san had sewed for her yesterday. It matched Ishida's servant uniform. "Things from the Living World have cache. They're rare. Displaying little baubles from war is all the rage now among the Arrancar."

"But Orihime-sama…." Ishida looked around the spacious room he had shared last night with the princess of Las Noches. He had slept on a cot at the foot of her bed because the female servants had been scared to bring him into their quarters, and Orihime-sama had refused to turn her new servant over to the _registry_. "Orihime-sama doesn't seem like the type to enjoy showing off battle trophies."

"She just likes things from Earth," Almatriste said. "Ever since the first shipment of broken teacups from the Living World, she's been wild for Earth things."

"So you want curtains?" Ishida needed to win the trust of the handmaidens if he was going secure time alone with Inoue-san. He stood up and walked to his pile of knick-knacks. "Show me what fabric you want. Unless your windows are the same size as Orihime-sama's, you're going to have to let me in there to take measurements."

Almatriste seemed to eye Ishida's collar to make certain it was properly fastened. "Alright. Lastimada is out, and _she's_ the one who thinks you're going to rummage through her private drawers and cast human spells on us. _I'm_ not afraid of you."

Ishida grabbed a roll of yarn with which to measure the windows and followed Almatriste into the adjoining room.

-----

Aizen ate in his private quarters before the diurnal meeting with Espada generals, and many times Orihime found Gin at breakfast with him. She was hoping that Gin-sama would be there today.

Gin wasn't there. The servant was gathering an empty miso bowl and a rice plate.

"Oh drat," Orihime said as she turned into the wide alcove. "I'm sorry that you had to eat alone."

"Orihime, dear, don't feel obligated to join me for every meal." Aizen put down his tea-cup and smiled a gentle smile. "But if you haven't eaten yet, sit with me for a moment." He gestured and the servant promptly refilled the tea-cup. "The Espada can wait."

"I'm so sorry I'm late." Orihime slid into a chair, and her maidservant, the newly-attired Lastimada, stood behind her. "I stayed up sewing uniforms for my girls, and I sorted all the pretty things I got at the market. All the sellers were so nice--just like you said they would be!"

Aizen's servant bowed the princess. "The usual, Orihime-sama?"

"That would be the _un_-usual in the case of our princess," said Aizen. "Orihime, would you like something in particular from the Living World? Pocky? Potato chips?"

"Oh no no no no, whatever." Orihime waggled her hands to protest the special attention. "The usual is fine."

She babbled about her first trip to the market and the noisiness of the world beyond the palace until the servant brought her cherry tart and Aizen mentioned her purchase of a slave.

"You didn't register him to be trained for palace service, dear." Aizen did not look perturbed. "Spirits are not for coddling. Everyone in Las Noches must learn his station."

"But I'm training him myself," said Orihime. "He--we both like to sew, and he's helping me redecorate. He's very nice and very …." She searched for the word to appeal to Aizen's affinity for devoted underlings. "_Tame_. He's a nice, tame human."

"Human, is he?" Aizen rose from the table. "All your servants are specialized Arrancar, but as long as you're enjoying yourself --"

A fierce reiatsu blew a napkin off the table and Orihime's hair about her face. Aizen looked to the door and smiled at who he saw there.

"This _pretense_," came a high-pitched, crazy voice. "All this playing at civilization and lingering over tea! You hold onto too much of your human spirit, Aizen. If you would only merge with a Hollow and transform yourself, this war would be over."

"And since when have you been impatient for peace?"

Orihime lowered her eyes. She didn't like this visitor. His presence always made her nervous.

"I'm not impatient for peace, Aizen. I'm impatient for power. Gin said that there would be a demonstration of the hougyoku at this meeting so I figured I could be bothered to come for once. But I show up and you're not even in the assembly room." A thin, hysterical laugh. "You bastard. All these weeks of war have been about displaying your prettiness and _playing palace. _When does the real fun begin? When?"

"Ichigo," said Aizen, and Orihime felt an involuntary shudder at the name. "Walk with me to the assembly. I promise that you will not be disappointed."

"I will walk nowhere with you, Aizen."

"Of course. Well then, I hope to see you there." Aizen cast a glance over his shoulder. "Orihime, be a good girl and try the potato chips. The shipment from the Living World came especially for you."

Orihime looked up in time to see the Hollow in the tight black coat de-materialize from the doorway. There was something unsettling about that one. His screechy voice, his striped mask, the way Aizen-sama seemed to regard him with affection despite the creature's extraordinary rudeness.

Her father, long white robes wavering, began a leisurely walk out the doorway. He didn't zip around like Ichigo.

-----

After Orihime had finished her second bag of chips, Lastimada observed that her mistress ate more food than anyone in the palace. Orihime was instantly penitent. "Oh, did you want some? Here, let's order another bag."

"I don't eat," Lastimada reminded her. "What amazes me is how much _you_ do."

"I suppose it's because I'm not an Arrancar yet," said Orihime. She pointed to the spirit-chain hole at Lastimada's abdomen. "I want one of those. Do you think when I get one, I won't feel so hungry all the time? Where do you think mine will be? I want one in my neck like Ulquiorra-san's."

"I'm sure Aizen-sama will give our princess whatever she wants." Lastimada bowed her head. She was more formal than Almatriste, but both handmaidens were familiar and friendly with their mistress. Orihime could always sense genuine affection from both of them.

"He doesn't give me everything," Orihime said. "He never lets me come to these Espada meetings of his."

Not that Orihime particularly _wanted_ to go to an Espada assembly of war, but she was bothered by the feeling that her father was over-protecting her. Ever since she could remember, Aizen-sama had told her that she was privileged and esteemed above all the Arrancar, but like everyone else in Las Noches, Orihime had no idea what was going to happen next. Aizen-sama's agenda was his own.

Y_ou are our princess. Stop trembling. There is nothing to fear and all the wonders of the universe will be revealed…. You are newly born… I made you. _

"I'm surprised that Aizen-sama didn't _demand_ training for your new servant." Lastimada--one eyebrow raised in amazement--watched Orihime open a third bag of chips. "Your Uryuu has probably strangled Almatriste with the curtains by now."

"No he hasn't."

U_ryuu_. The boy had said his name was _Ishida Uryuu. _It was a pretty name for a pretty boy. When Orihime had returned to the bathtub to heal him yesterday evening, she had smiled at how shiny his hair looked dripping wet past his collar, how blue his eyes were without the glasses, how prettily he blushed all over. She had sensed--in a blur of intuition--that humans were not supposed to look upon one another's nakedness, but how could she possibly have known that? She had summoned Ayume and Shonou, and the fairies had flown over the tub, casting their golden aura, healing the boy's many gaping cuts.

His face had looked so relieved, and Orihime had gasped, _"Oh stupid me. I should've healed you before you got in the water. It was stinging, huh?"_

She paused munching her chip. _Uryuu_…. She wondered if he had slept comfortably. She wondered if he, like her, still felt insatiably hungry--even after breakfast. She wondered why she was so intrigued by him and why, of all the poor souls in chains in the market, she had wanted to protect him.

Had the sorrows of war been that naked on his face?

-----

Ishida was putting the finishing touches on a pillowcase when the princess returned to her bedroom. He could not sense reiatsu well with the collar on, so her presence startled him into stabbing himself with an embroidery needle. He stifled a yip and put his finger in his mouth.

"There you are!" The schoolgirl he had known as Inoue-san clasped her hands together, and her white skirt caught a breeze from the open window. _She really does look like a princess. _"Look how industrious you've been! The curtains! The curtains are wonderful!"

"See," said Almatriste to the still-skeptical Lastimada. Almatriste was holding a basket of spools and trimmings for the new servant. "He's harmless. _And_ he's got specialized skills. Everyone's going to want him."

"Aizen-sama said I didn't have to send you to training," the princess continued to Ishida. "I was thinking about it, though, and it occurred to me that maybe you might not want to be my servant after all. I've lived with my family my whole life, so I really don't know what it's like to miss people, but don't you miss your family?"

"What?" The finger in his mouth was still bleeding, and the taste reminded him of battle.

"I mean, maybe I can have you returned to the Living World somehow." Her eyes were so kind. "Would you like that? To return to your family?"

"I--" _Ryuuken diving between Ishida's body and the Arrancar's drawn blade….The zanpakutou slashing through his father's throat._ "I--I don't know," Ishida murmured. "My family is dead."

"I see." Inoue-san bit her bottom lip and looked exactly like she did that first day of handicrafts club, when she couldn't figure out where the freshmen were supposed to sit. "I suppose we can talk about it later. I guess this world is a big adjustment for you, but maybe …." She smiled encouragingly. "Maybe you won't want to leave after you get used to it? It's beautiful here--I promise it is."

Ishida knew that he would not leave Hueco Mundo without Inoue-san, that was for certain.

Almatriste looked from the princess to the slave and back again, and it seemed to Ishida that she didn't like what she saw. "Querida, did you have a nice breakfast with Aizen-sama?"

"Ichigo showed up there." The princess scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue. He's always showing off his reiatsu. He's so ugly and rude, and I have no idea why Aizen-sama puts up with him."

The look on Ishida's face made all three faces stare.

"What?" Inoue-san looked puzzled. "Does the name mean something to you?" _She has intuition like lightning_. "Is Ichigo a famous Hollow?"

"I--I--" Ishida's mind was racing. No Arrancar in the palace, in all likelihood, knew what a Quincy was, and none would recognize Ishida Uryuu because he had _not _been fighting at close range with the Shinigami in recent battles. But Kurosaki in Hollow form? He might recognize Ishida off the bat. A hybridized Kurosaki had to be a dangerous thing. A Kurosaki in league with Aizen--_worse_.

"I suppose," Ishida finally stammered out. "You could say that the name Ichigo meant something once in the Living World."

He ran his fingers across the needlework on his lap. What had he been doing? Embroidering flowers on a pillowcase for the princess' head? This situation was urgent. He had to get Inoue-san out of here.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Sexual innuendo, violence, references to character death

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Three

"They're monsters, Sousuke. They want to fight, not to watch magic shows. A poof here, some science there. They're not impressed." Gin padded into the huge assembly room and leaned against the doorway. "Ichigo didn't show, eh?"

"Neither did you, Gin." Aizen sat on his throne and looked amused as always. "You set a bad example for the troops. The Espada believe that my favorites are excused from meetings."

"Oh no, no favorites here." Gin tossed his silver hair and smiled from ear to ear. "This world is _nothing_ like Soul Society. No one is bound by friendship any more than by duty."

The room was empty. The corridors were empty. No guard stood at the entrance to the Assembly, and nothing could look through the large high windows except the moon. And at the moment, the ever-present moon of Hueco Mundo was covered by clouds.

"And what would you have binding one to another in your ideal world, Gin?" Aizen closed his eyes and lay either hand on the armrests of his white throne. "I've promised the Arrancar _pleasure_. Kaname's _justice_ needs a torchbearer now that he has passed. Do you want the world-to-come to be a fair place?"

"Now, how the heck would anyplace full of justice be right by _me?_" Gin scratched his head. "Everyone knows I don't deserve the pretty robes I'm wearing now, let alone a place in your perfect universe." He padded closer towards Aizen's throne. "What I want to know is--where's your precious princess at these meetings? Today the hougyoku tore your first Espada into two lovely, blood-dripping parts and created a second Espada out of the airborne gore. That was such a neat trick. One would imagine that tricks like that would entertain a young girl."

"She's our healer, Gin. That spectacle would have upset her."

"Oh, you favor her so. She's not our healer. She's a vehicle to power, and you know as well as I do that she's _as finished as all Hueco Mundo_ once the hougyoku matures. I don't get why you're so nice and strawberry tarts with her."

"The girl's power is in her belief system. Simple. If she thinks she's bringing harm to the universe, she won't help me. I need to keep her happy, to keep her dancing towards a sense of helping others."

"Ichigo's going to get to her."

"He's not."

"Is too." Gin approached the throne with a taunting smile. "Kill the bastard already. He runs around the palace annoying everybody."

"Maybe he entertains me," said Aizen.

"You wield the power of manipulation, Sousuke. He's raw power. He has the potential to be stronger than you. What makes you think he's not going to grab your little princess by the hair and use the hougyoku for his own ends, hmm?"

Aizen rose from his throne. His large frame towered over the slender presence of his former vice-captain. "He won't."

Gin seemed to stiffen, as if poised for combat.

Aizen wrapped his arm across Gin's shoulders and spoke with quiet authority. "One, Ichigo doesn't know what his potential is. Two, he used to care for the girl. Don't you see it? He won't even look at her. His Hollow side won't allow it. He acts as though she is incidental and unimportant in this war."

"Hey, that's how you treat _me_," Gin said. For a moment his smile turned petulant. "You ignore me in public, but I expect you to honor our … friendship … when this is all over." Aizen's arm still around him, he turned to face the high palace windows. The windows were full of the darkness of Hueco Mundo.

"Now, Sousuke, who's to say that Ichigo won't try to _rescue_ Orihime-chan?"

"One of things I've always loved about you, Ichimaru Gin," Aizen breathed close to Gin's ear, "is how well you think. But trust me, my longtime companion; Orihime is beyond rescuing."

A gray cloud swept past the main window and uncovered a cool quarter-moon, which cast a bluish light across the giant room.

"Poor Orihime-chan," said Gin.

-----

It took a dozen throw pillows embroidered with strange, Living World emblems before the Arrancar handmaidens warmed up to Ishida. After he sewed the image of an ice-cream cone in shimmering pink threads onto a coarse burlap square and hung the project on their wall, even Lastimada was impressed.

"It reminds me of the old neighborhood," she said. "Spirits would hang around the 31 Flavors and watch the children…." Her voice trailed off. "I think we were trying to remember what it was like to taste foods…."

"You remember your life as a Hollow?" Ishida bit the thread off an endknot. He was sewing white thread on white fabric. "You're an Arrancar now--isn't that an entirely new creation born of Aizen's hougyoku?"

"We're hybrids." Lastimada's voice took on a proud ring. "We're part Hollow, part Shinigami synthesized from Aizen-sama's own reiatsu. We remember our Hollow selves, but our human lives before that are fuzzier. Maybe part of the Arrancar rage for Living World paraphernalia has to do with how we were once sad, sad Hollow spirits who refused soul-burials."

"Sad Hollow spirits _indeed_," huffed Almatriste. "Hollow are stupid beasts. We're better than that now. The whole universe will be better once Aizen-sama is done with it."

Hands folded on her chest, the princess of Las Noches lay on her white bed and reminded Ishida of a body in casket. "I want to be an Arrancar," she said dreamily.

"Orihime-sama," Ishida spoke to the princess in a quiet tone. He was still loath to bring up the subject and upset her. "Do _you_ remember anything about your life before the palace?"

"I'm different," the princess explained. "I was made right here. I don't have any Hollow part. The first thing I remember was waking up in this giant white bed, and Aizen-sama was leaning over me, and he said _Orihime, I'm your father_."

Imaging the very scenario made Ishida want to hit something. _Bastard, monster._ His needle accelerated through a bunched swathe of fabric. _What did he do to her?_

The handmaidens never left the princess' presence, and Ishida was beginning to wonder if he should broach the issue of Inoue-san's true identity in front of them. They were _Arrancar._ Could they could be persuaded to help in a rescue? Last night they had allowed him to be alone with their _Querida_, but that's only because they had been scared of him--despite Inoue's protest that should the new slave give anyone any trouble she would poke him right through the chest with Tsubaki.

Ishida regretted having been so shy around Inoue-san last night; they could've talked then. He could have tried to remind her of her life in Karakura.

"I want a room-divider," said Lastimada. "Something with lots of beads hanging between my bed and Almatriste's."

The handmaidens liked Ishida now. Maybe they would insist that he sleep in _their_ room?

"He sews better than you do, Querida." said Almatriste. She was staring at the ice-cream cone wall hanging. "The army is going to want him."

"For what?" asked Lastimada. "Luppi-san is the only one of those idiots who cares much for beautiful things."

"No, the army doesn't need a decorator," said Orihime. She was still lying with her hands folded and a tranquil expression on her face. Ishida could almost smell the funeral incense. "Someone who is so talented with his hands is good at manipulating spirit threads. If Aizen-sama finds out that Uryuu is clever, he will find a way to use him in the war. I don't want that to happen, so…." Orihime smiled. "Let's keep him here with us, alright?"

S_o here I am._ Ishida bent over his sewing. _Alone in a room with girls twittering over my sewing. It's like an afternoon in Handicrafts club._

Beyond sparring or watching soldiers spar there was not much to do in Las Noches. From what Ishida had gathered, huge training battles between newly-created Arrancar were held in various arenas of the palace. The princess had little interest in violence, but she occasionally was summoned to heal the mangled bodies of the Espada-worthy (most mangled Hollow were disposable; they ate one another hourly, the handmaidens said, and only the fittest were chosen for Aizen's forces). Sometimes the princess trained (her handmaidens were excellent swordsmen), but today the three were much more interested in curtains than in battle.

Ishida had asked his female companions to take him on a wide tour of the palace, but they had been more interested in getting their room decorated. _Not much to see but white walls_, they had emphasized, and the Hall of Loyalty and the Main Assembly were off-limits to all but the Espada. The Library was Aizen's alone (although probably accessed by his favorite, Ichimaru Gin, too), and no one else in Hueco Mundo could read.

A_rrancar can't read_.

The fact had stunned Ishida at first. In his quest for information about Hueco Mundo, one of the first things he had asked after was a library, and the princess had told him _"Aizen-sama is the source of all information."_ The handmaidens had nodded solemnly and decried written material as the confusing medium of an out-moded world. _"Lore and propaganda are not the Truth."_

Ishida ran his fingers over his needlework. It was a long-shot but ….

The Inoue-san Ishida remembered liked to hum over her schoolwork. She was two places behind him in school rankings not only because she had unrivaled concentration for taking long exams but because she sincerely enjoyed preparing for them. Inoue Orihime was a reader. Not like Ryo-san who always had her nose in a novel during lunch hour--no, Orihime preferred the company of people to books, but Ishida knew that she loved to read. She had told him so in Soul Society. She had described long afternoons reading textbooks that weren't even required for her grade.

D_o you think, Ishida-kun, that if I read the third year science book in first year that I'll remember the material when it comes time to study it again? I don't have a good memory, I'm afraid. _

Ishida stood up and displayed the white fabric he had been embroidering. "It's called a towel." The side he presented was covered in lush white loops of terrycloth. "I observed yesterday that you only use small hand-cloths before the bath." (Here, Ishida blushed at the memory of Almatriste cleaning dirt and blood off his naked body with quick, perfunctory pats). "And I noticed that it's customary for bathers to dry themselves with their own reiatsu upon leaving a tub." (Here, Ishida blushed harder at the memory of Inoue-san arriving in time to heal and dry him as he rose out of the steaming water). "Well, um, in the Living World, humans use _towels_."

Almatriste, Lastimada, and their princess oohed and ahhed over the prettiness of what Ishida had made.

"Towels can be very decorative," Ishida continued. "Displays of status in some homes." He turned the large white towel around. "It's common practice for wealthier people to have their names embroidered on their towels."

Row after row of white Japanese lettering covered the other side of the towel. The lettering was tiny and ornate and indiscernible from even a short distance. Almatriste leaned forward to get a closer look.

"Beautiful," she said. "What are those markings? They're not flowers or food or anything I remember from the Living World."

Ishida was surprised that she did not even recognize writing. He had expected the Arrancar to do that much. Perhaps Aizen had efficiently brainwashed them somehow, hypnotized them out of written language?

"They're just decorative squiggles," Ishida said. "A royal pattern." He turned to Inoue and offered her the towel. "Suitable for a princess."

"Eee!" The princess crumpled the towel to her chest. Ishida was disappointed that she did not even look twice at the writing. "Oh thank you, Uryuu!" She jumped off the bed and started for the bathroom. "Come with me! You can wait on me while I take my bath!"

"Oh… ah…um…"

The maidservants had turned to one another and were talking about stupid things Luppi-san had done lately. Obviously, Ishida was expected to serve the princess in the tub.

W_ell, this is my chance to be alone with her, right?_

He steeled himself as if preparing for battle. He willed his blood pressure to drop and his cheeks to cool.

"I'm coming, Orihime-sama."

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Although this fic is A/U, this chapter contains specific spoilers for chapter 235. Also, some mild sexual innuendo.

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Four

By the time Ishida reached the bathroom, Inoue-san had taken off all her clothes and was leaning over the tub's edge. Her lithe white legs and round pink bottom were directly in his line of vision.

He lost all his resolve and turned to face the opposite direction. "I--I--forgive me, Orihime-sama, but where I'm from, it is disrespectful for a man to look upon a naked woman, even if she is his sister--even if she is his princess--especially if she…."

"Oh Uryuu, it's okaaaaay!" Ishida heard a gurgling sound as the faucet began to work. "I expected that this would all be strange to you, but don't worry. I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable doing. I'm perfectly capable of giving myself a bath."

The idea that he had been expected to wipe Inoue-san's body with a cloth struck Ishida with full force now, and he reached out an arm to steady himself against the wall.

"I just wanted to be alone with you for a little while," Inoue-san said. Ishida could hear gentle ripples as she settled into the water. "Come on, you can turn around. The air gets incredibly steamy and you can't see my nakedness! Arrancar don't like their baths hot, but I love them like this."

It was _not_ true that Ishida couldn't see Inoue-san's body. His glasses weren't even fogged up yet, and her large and luminous breasts were floating just above the water-line of the tub. He willed himself to raise his eyes to a place above her head, though. After she recovered her memory, he wanted to be able to say that he did not look. _He would not look._

"Uryuu? Earlier it looked like there was something you wanted to tell me, but you didn't want to speak in front of Almatriste and Lastimada."

Ishida still wasn't looking, but the memory of a very round posterior bent over the tub… then those two pink nipples touched by the water's brim…. He had completely forgotten what he had planned to say to Inoue-san.

"Was it something about Ichigo? You seemed to have a very strong reaction when I said he showed up at my breakfast with Aizen-sama."

"Ichigo?" _It's very hot in here. Maybe I should sit down. _"Yes, I knew Kurosaki Ichigo in the Living World. Before he was a Hollow, he was a human and … and …"

"Really? You knew him as a human? I was thinking that maybe you fought him as Hollow in the war or something. I bet he was a very nasty human too."

"Actually…."

"_Ishida! You're in the way! This isn't a competition to see who can rescue Inoue-san first! Stop! You're going to get yourself killed!"_

Picturing the last time he had seen Kurosaki allowed Ishida's current hormonal challenge to diminish somewhat. "The Kurosaki I remember fought _against _Hollow, not with them. He was fighting in the battle when …." _Ryuuken appearing out of nowhere, Ryuuken's warm blood spattering on Ishida's face_. "Kurosaki was fighting alongside me some weeks before I was captured. That battle scene was one of total devastation. I assumed he …."

"Was killed?" Inoue's voice was small and full of sympathy. "I suppose maybe after that…." Water stirred as she adjusted her body in the tub. "Well, that's so strange that Ichigo was on the other side of the war not long ago. Was he your…friend?"

"Yes," Ishida heard himself say without hesitation. "He was my friend."

Steam clouded Ishida's glasses, and he reflexively took them off to wipe on his sleeve. He didn't understand how Kurosaki came to his current incarnation, but the issue here was that Kurosaki posed a threat to Inoue and to the whole universe. A Hollow with the power of _getsuga tenshou_? Showing up for breakfast with Aizen? Whether or not Kurosaki could be restored to his previous self was irrelevant.

"I'm not clear on something," Ishida said. "Is he an Arrancar or is he a Hollow? You keep calling him a _Hollow_."

H_ollow or Arrancar, dangerous,_ _dangerous. In all probability, Kurosaki can not be saved._

"Oh, he's not an Arrancar," said the princess. "He showed up here not long ago and killed every single Hollow in the battle trials. He even killed a couple Espada. He might have killed them all except that I came in time to heal them. Ulquiorra-san was cleaved in two. Ichigo is _very_ strong."

Ishida's mouth dropped open. _Why hasn't he taken on Aizen yet?_

"I'm sorry," she said. "This must all be so hard for you. But peacetime is coming soon--Aizen-sama will establish a new kingdom of Heaven and Earth. I'm sure that Aizen-sama will find a way to turn Ichigo into an Arrancar, and once that happens, your friend will stop being so … unpleasant. Hollow are brutal souls. I'm sure you know that."

Anger flooded Ishida's body. "And what are _Arrancar?_ Aren't they brutal too?" Besides Almatriste and Lastimada, the only Arrancar Ishida had interacted with had been the one who slew Ryuuken. "Arrancar are trained killers. From what you've told me--they kill one another _in their own world_ every day."

The inappropriateness of his words hung in the air. A slave was speaking to his mistress as if he was still the enemy. Ishida had never raised his voice to Inoue-san in the Living World, but here, her enthusiasm for Aizen's world-view was infuriating.

"Uryuu …." It was such a sweet voice; it sounded almost condescending. "There's a difference between brutality for its own sake and … a trained army. Warriors fight for principles--or for a leader with principles. I mean, weren't you a warrior too before coming here? A very _powerful_ warrior?"

How did she know about his power?

"When I took the collar off for a moment," she said, "I could sense that you weren't an ordinary soldier."

If she knew of his power, then she knew of that power's threat to Aizen's army. Why offer to return an exceptional warrior to the Living World?

The water faucet shut off, and time passed while Ishida's pulse throbbed in his temples. He wasn't doing a very good job of maintaining his usual poised, cool self here. When at last he asked the question, he could hear the frustration and hope in the words: _"Why are you protecting me?"_

"I don't know." Such a vulnerable voice. "I trust you for some reason."

Ishida heard her rise out of the tub.

-----

When the Hollow dreamed, he was aware of the _Other_. The Other's presence did not annoy him (it was no threat and, in fact, it supported the Hollow's dominion over the body both shared), but sleeping was not a very warrior-like past-time. The Hollow wanted blood and power. He disliked sleeping. He disliked waiting.

Still, there wasn't much to do in Las Noches, so the Hollow fell asleep from time to time and saw the face of Kurosaki Ichigo (the Other's name … not the Hollow's name … Aizen called the Hollow "Ichigo" and _that _was annoying, not the presence of the Other).

"Why are you sleeping?" The Other wanted to know. "Why aren't you fighting?"

The Hollow heaved a long and heavy sigh in his sleep and threw one arm over his head.

Yes, the Inner World belonged to the Other now. Let the Other feel the loneliness. Let the Other feel the impotence.

What a relief it had been to be born into another landscape. The Inner World was boring, and so the Hollow turned away from the Other's stupid face and willed a dream upon himself. In this dream, landscape of his birth appeared--still torn with battle, black with smoke and red with blood.

"_The sun has already set in the palm of our hand._" Oh, that Arrancar bastard had been cocky. Next to him, the human girl with big sad eyes. _"Stupid woman. You hesitated and now your friends will die. You are coming to Hueco Mundo anyway."_ The Arrancar bastard (oh the ugly ex-Hollow, just a skinny thing with bleeding eyes and half a mask) grabbing the dumbstruck girl by the upper arm. _"Who dies first? That Shinigami there?"_ The Arrancar gesturing to the fool who the Other had been. A fool in Zangetsu's clothing, a fool whose hand was impaled by an Arrancar's blade. _"Grimmjow, kill him."_

"_Inoue!"_ The Other had cried, and in the blaze of grief that followed, the Hollow had sensed an opportunity.

Blue arrows, slashing zanpakutou, the dense tunnels of Negacion dropping over Aizen's Chosen Few.

"_Ishida! You're in the way! This isn't a competition to see who can rescue Inoue-san first! Stop! You're going to get yourself killed!" _

The dream evaporated, and the Hollow stood facing the Other in the Inner World.

"It wasn't Ishida's fault," the Other said. "It's wasn't Inoue's fault. It was _my_ fault."

"Stop with your whining. I saw that you tried to perform a soul burial on her right before you lay down your blade to me. Good job. Nothing else to do. It's all my story from now on."

"Can you tell me something?" The Other wore a child's expression. Pitiful. "Do you know where a Shinigami's soul goes after--? "

Still worrying about Shinigami business? No, more likely the Other couldn't accept that his girl was really dead. The little black-haired Shinigami had been lying in a puddle of blood, and while the Other had been screaming, the Hollow had won control of the body.

"Where's Rukia?" asked the Other.

"Does it matter? Do you want me to stop Aizen or not?"

The Other bowed his head. "Stop Aizen," he said. "Stop him no matter the cost."

-----

When Ishida lowered his eyes, Inoue-san was wearing the embroidered towel wrapped around her body. He had been wondering if recovering her memory would make much difference to her in terms of modesty. In Soul Society, she had started to change clothes right in front of him. She really didn't think of him _that way_ so--

"The bracelet you wear," she said. "It's a weapon, right?"

Ishida startled and touched his wrist. The sleeves of the tunic the princess had sewn for him fell to the knuckles and hid his bracelet with the five-pointed star. Odd sleeves. Stylish but impractical--especially for a servant.

"It's not a weapon," Ishida said. "It's a Quincy emblem."

"But it has something to do with your power, right?" The princess touched one of the blue hairpins she still wore in her wet hair. That ginger hair seemed a darker shade, hung longer, and tendrils of it stuck to her neck. "I saw when you were taking a bath that your bracelet pendant matched the scar on your chest. The scar didn't go away when I healed you. Your other wounds healed, so I figured the shape of the scar and the shape of your pendant had some special…" She frowned. "Quincy? Did you say _Quincy?_"

"Yes." Ishida's hope skyrocketed. "Quincy. I'm a _Quincy_. Does the name mean something to you?"

"Um…." Her voice softened. "Maybe?"

When her eyes met Ishida's, they looked afraid, but he swallowed and went on. "Inoue-san, do you have any idea who I am?"

She blinked. "Inoue-san?"

"That's your name. Didn't Aizen tell you that your whole name was Inoue Orihime?"

"No, he told me that my name was Orihime and that's what he's always called me. You--you called me Inoue-san. The day in the market…."

"It's because I _know_ you, Inoue-san. We were--we are friends."

She was staring at him with rapt attention, but he couldn't read the expression in her eyes. Why was he hesitating? Why did he feel that his next words would be a violation of her innocence? And there was something else--he didn't want to reveal himself. Saying he cared enough to bring her back to his world would be an awkward confession. Even when he had gone to Soul Society to help rescue Rukia, Ishida had not been upfront about his motives.

I _want to show you how strong I've become, Kurosaki._

Ishida looked into the large unblinking eyes of the princess of Las Noches and knew that this was a matter of life and death. What good is strength if not to protect your friends?

"Listen to me," Ishida said. "I'm going to tell you what I know because I care about you and not because I want to hurt you or upset you. I don't want to betray you or bring down Aizen's army. I just want you to know the truth."

"The truth? Aizen-sama says--"

"Damn it!" Ishida clenched his hands and felt his grip on restraint failing. "Aizen isn't the only source of the truth. Aizen isn't--but no, _never mind Aizen_. I don't want to talk about Aizen. I just want to tell you that _I knew you in the Living World_. You are a human."

She hadn't looked away. Her eyes were still locked with his, and Ishida took this as a good sign.

"You're a living soul, just like me. You could tell that I was a living soul when you felt my reiatsu. Isn't there some way you could prove to yourself that you're a living soul like me?"

"I…" This time her gaze dropped. She looked like she was fighting the truth. "I'm not like other souls. I have special powers, so how can I be human? You're the first living soul I've sensed, but you…."

She started trembling.

"Inoue-san?" Ishida's hands rose--he was aware of wanting to hold her by the shoulders--but he willed his hands down again.

"Is there something my father is trying to protect me from? If he didn't create me, then what?" Her eyes watered. "Did he find me somewhere?"

"Inoue-san." Ishida's voice was composed. "Inoue-san, do you know how to read?"

The question threw her. Her eyes widened, and then she seemed to remember something.  
"Beings created by Aizen-sama don't read? Aizen-sama is the source of all information?"

"That's what you told me." Ishida looked at the towel Inoue was wearing. As it happened, the lettering he had embroidered was on the inside of the towel, and she was wearing the fluffy part out.

The princess of Las Noches followed Ishida's gaze. She opened the towel.

"Ah!" Ishida gasped and staggered backwards. _Naked girl, naked girl, naked girl_. He covered his eyes with his hand, but a strange sound made him look again.

She was crying. Little mewing noises. She was sitting on the edge of the tub with the towel in her lap, and her wet naked shoulders were shaking. Her hand was running over what Ishida _assumed_ was the embroidery--he couldn't see the letters at this distance and through the steam. The kanji was white on white, so no one would have an easy time reading it…. Was she recognizing writing?

And then he heard her reading.

"_Karakura High School,"_ the princess read. _"Ochi-san's class, 1A ... Kurosaki Ichigo, Sado Yasutora, Ishida Uryuu …." _Her voice cracked. "_Kunieda Ryō, Ogawa Michuru, Honsho Chizuru, Arisawa Tats… Tats…"_ The tears were in her throat now, and Ishida understood that she was remembering the faces behind the names.

"_Arisawa Tatsuki!"_ Inoue Orihime dropped her face against the bath towel and sobbed.

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Mild sexual innuendo, violence, reference to character deaths

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Five

When Orihime joined her father for breakfast the next morning, Gin was there.

"I still don't get the point," Gin was saying in a sleepy drawl. "Why more raids to the Living World? At first you were trying to spook Ichigo out of his hole and lead him here, but the charming fellow just shows up and makes himself at home. It's not like you to terrorize humans for no good reason, and who cares if Arrancar practice battle in the Living World or here?"

Aizen cleared his throat, and Gin looked up to notice the princess.

"Good morning, my dear," said Aizen. "Your eyes look tired. Did you not sleep well?"

"I stayed awake sewing," Orihime said. She smiled as broadly as her lips could stretch. Her cheeks hurt. Her heart hurt.

"Sewing?" Aizen gestured to the servant. "Bring Orihime's surprise breakfast."

Gin looked bored and picked vegetables off his former captain's plate.

"So I gather," said Aizen, "that Living World trifles have been keeping you busy and happy?"

"Oh yes," Orihime said. "I couldn't stop making pillows and curtains and all sorts of things." She yawned and covered her mouth. "I can't wait until I'm an Arrancar, though--then I will never get sleepy again."

"Or hungry again," Aizen added. "In the meantime, here's a treat. _Red bean paste on toast._ An unusual food combination fancied by very few humans. Tell me what you think of the taste."

"It was awful," said Gin. He stuck his tongue out.

Orihime tried to bring food to her mouth with her usual ravenous enjoyment, but her hand felt heavy. Her chewing motions felt forced.

The instant she had started wailing in the bathroom yesterday, Almatriste and Lastimada had rushed in--zanpakutou drawn. Uryuu (although she remembered him as _Ishida-kun_ now) had been staring at her with solemn eyes. The handmaidens, more fascinated with the princess' tears than alarmed by them, had not given the new servant boy a second glance. _"She's turning Hollow?"_ Almatriste had gasped. _"I don't remember hearing weeping like that since…. "_

"Well?" Aizen asked as she was still chewing. "Do you like the red bean paste?"

Odd that this morning of all mornings, she would be served what had been her favorite breakfast in the Living World. "It's good," she said without enthusiasm. "Very nice, but I prefer the tarts."

"More strawberry tarts," said Aizen to the servant.

"Child eats like a horse," said Gin.

Trying to steady the swell of feelings inside her, Orihime took a sip of tea. She remembered her life in the Living World, but her days in Hueco Mundo were just as clear and full of meaning. Aizen had never been anything but kind to her, _and what if he was right? _What if the universe would _indeed_ be a better place because of the changes he envisioned? Yesterday Ishida-kun had been so patient as she faced horrible truth after horrible truth: Aizen had slain everyone in Center 46 in Soul Society, Aizen was responsible for Kurosaki-kun being this hideous _Ichigo_ now, Aizen had ordered her abduction (Orihime was still fuzzy on the details of that day). No, no, it could never be right for a murderer to take the place of God. Aizen was a murderer.

"Boredom will kill the Espada before any Shinigami force can," said Gin. "Is that it, Sousuke? You want to keep the hybrids bloodthirsty? Or is that you're looking for Urahara?"

"Let's not talk war in the presence of my daughter." Aizen's eyes were full of gentle concern. "Such tired eyes, my dear--yet there were no wounds for you to heal yesterday. I know that healing tires you, but sewing pillows? Handicrafts never drained you before."

"I just couldn't get to sleep." Orihime shrugged. "I guess I was having too much fun."

When Orihime had composed herself and stopped sobbing, the handmaidens realized that their mistress was not turning Hollow (_"Oh the wailing of the Change,"_ Lastimada recalled--not without fondness--and seemed disappointed that Orihime was not undergoing some physical transformation). Still clutching Ishida by the upper arms, Orihime, sniffling and trying to smile, insisted that her handmaidens leave her alone with him.

Almatriste and Lastimada had exchanged glances. Frowning, Lastimada said, "_Whatever she wants_," and Almatriste--her frown even more severe--turned to Orihime: "_Alright, Querida. Have fun. He's all yours."_

Whatever had they meant by all that?

They had left the room muttering about _hormones_ and how maybe Aizen-sama's creations, unlike Arrancar, needed to make use of them.

Then Ishida-kun had asked Orihime to please cover herself with the towel, and when she did, he had looked at her with a stern, resolute expression.

"_Do you know how to get out of here?"_

"_What? Of course. My specialty is barriers. Hollow have to tear through the sky to reach the Living World, but I can just step into it if I want."_

"_Perfect." Ishida-kun gripped her wrist with sudden urgency._ _"Let's go. **Now**."_

"_No, no, no, I'll open a passage for you, but I can't leave here. Aizen-sama will--"_

"_What? You're in danger!"_

"_I might be putting the whole world in danger if I leave. He'll just send someone to get me again and--"_

A _fierce whisper:_ "_I'm not going without you!"_

At that point, Orihime had collapsed, crying, into Ishida's arms.

"Ohhh Sousuke," Gin breathed the name over his cup of steaming tea. "It's obvious that the girl is bored, bored, bored. You should invite her to our meetings. You should let her play with the hougyoku. Sewing pillows and doing a little healing every time Luppi gets one of his many arm thingies lopped off--these are not proper pastimes for a princess. Don't you have biiiig things planned for her? Eh?" Gin's smile widened. "Don't you think it's time we test her mettle?"

Orihime looked from Gin to Aizen. Here was an opportunity. She could tell that Aizen saw the spark in her eyes because he responded with instant curiosity. "Is that so, my dear? Have you been bored?"

"Not really," said Orihime. "But I would like to know more about the hougyoku. It matures soon enough, and I still have no clue what you expect me to do with it. I'm--I'm a little anxious, I suppose. I want to be prepared."

"Do you?"

"I'm curious," said Orihime. "You've shown demonstrations of the hougyoku's power to the Espada but not to me. You've always said that I stand above the Espada--I mean, I trust what you're doing, but--I _am_ curious, Aizen-sama."

Ishida had said that the hougyoku was the key to the whole war. He had said that Urahara would know what to do with the hougyoku. Ishida had also said that yes, it would be great if Orihime could find it and take it, but _that was_ _impossible_ so Orihime needed to leave Las Noches _now._

Orihime's palms cradled her teacup. Maybe Aizen trusted his daughter enough to put the hougyoku in her hands?

Ishida had said he wouldn't leave Las Noches without Orihime, and he hadn't. Yesterday in the bathroom it had taken another long crying spell and a good measure of Ishida-kun's patience _("What did you say? I'm just hearing garbled sobs, Inoue-san!")_ before he understood that she didn't _want_ to leave. She couldn't leave. Not without Kurosaki-kun.

How long had Ishida held her?

There had been so many to cry for. Human and Hollow alike. All those tormented by war and taken to Hueco Mundo without a soul burial. Kurosaki-kun, _Kurosaki-kun_--was he even alive behind that ugly mask? And Aizen-sama… her strong, protective father was lost to her forever.

"Well, then. Perhaps you _are_ ready for a little more information," said Aizen. He was looking at her with fond indulgence. "After I meet with the Espada, you can show me the pretty things you sewed, and we'll talk about the hougyoku, yes?"

Orihime smiled and rose from the table. "That's wonderful. I'm so excited, Aizen-sama."

Turning to the servant, she said, "I'll have more tarts to take back with me to my rooms." She was going to bring them to Ishida-kun. No one knew that as a living soul, he actually required food.

"I suppose," said Gin. "that we'll be sending Luppi to lead an attack on a pastry shop tomorrow."

I_s it possible,_ thought Orihime as she watched the servant clear the table, _that I can convince Ishida-kun to go home? Anything is possible. Isn't that what Aizen-sama always taught me? With my special powers, anything is possible._

-----

After the princess had scampered away with her tarts, Gin leaned closer to Aizen.

"Really, now," said Gin. "The bit with the red bean paste? You're testing her."

Aizen lifted his eyebrows.

"All the raids to the Living World," said Gin, "have been about gathering things that might restore her memory. Are you playing a game, Sousuke, or is the little girl really worth all this bother?"

"Open," said Aizen, and his chopsticks lifted a pickled plum from his plate and brought it to Gin's mouth. "You're smart, Ichimaru Gin, but don't ever believe that you can keep up with _me_."

Ishida knew that he _had_ to convince Inoue-san to return to the Living World.

The Hollow guards at each doorway paid no attention to him as he walked through the corridors of Las Noches. Why should they? His head was bowed in submission and he wore the collar of a fresh slave. The collar was disabled, of course. Inoue-san had turned it off, but Ishida had _not_ told her that he was going to shadow her this morning.

Was Inoue-san shattered? Her grief and confusion had been so intense yesterday. She had finally cried herself to sleep in his lap, right there on the bathroom floor, still in her embroidered towel, and Ishida--careful not to touch her anywhere indecent--had carried her to bed.

There, she had woken up and clung to him again. _"Don't go" _spoken in a frantic voice. He had wanted to say the right thing, to question her about what she did or did not remember, to comfort her … but what could he have done? Her world was collapsing, and his presence was the only berth in the confusion. Each time he suggested leaving Hueco Mundo, she sobbed and said she had to restore Kurosaki. _"I can do it. I have to figure out a way."_

At one point late in the day, Almatriste had walked into to the room to discover Ishida and Inoue, now huddled under the covers and Inoue fast asleep. Almatriste had lain a basket of bread at the foot of the bed and winked at Lastimada, who was peeking behind the door.

T_hey assume we're lovers_, thought Ishida and blushed at the memory of the handmaidens' faces.

A whole day spent holding a beautiful girl in a towel. Ishida had begun to believe that maybe he didn't want to leave Las Noches after all.

Orihime had calmed down by nightfall, and even as she insisted that she wasn't going to challenge Aizen with her new-found memory, Ishida had fingered the five-pointed Quincy emblem at his wrist.

U_ntil she snaps out of this delusion that she can help Kurosaki, I have to protect her._

"That's the Assembly, boy," snapped a guard. "You can't go there."

Ishida bowed. "Pardon me, I wasn't looking for the Assembly. I serve Orihime-sama, and she was at breakfast with Aizen-sama. I was supposed to meet her outside his door."

"You can't go near Aizen-sama's rooms neither. Only Arrancar pass this point."

"Salchicha, you ugly bastard," came a hard but oddly sibilant voice from down the hall. "Who are you chatting with?"

It was an Arrancar. It wore a long white robe with two cut-out holes at the torso, and Ishida could see the tattoo of a number six displayed on the left side. A comb of what appeared to be Hollow teeth rested atop a small feminine-looking head. Ishida wasn't sure if this Arrancar was male or female. Its voice had sounded male.

"You're new," it said as it approached Ishida. It held up one arm, and Ishida noted that its sleeves, like his sewn by Inoue-san, were long enough to obscure its hands. "Ho, _muchacho_, what a beautiful servant in beautiful clothes. You've got some nerve wandering around where Espada live. Or do you _want_ to be noticed?"

Ishida bowed. "I serve Orihime-sama."

"Nonsense," said the strange Arrancar. "Only Arrancar serve that little bitch."

Hostility towards Inoue-san? Why?

"I'm new," Ishida repeated. "I came to the palace only days ago. I'm looking for where the princess asked me to meet her after her breakfast with Aizen-sama."

"Can you say anything else? Have you been trained in conversation at all?" The Arrancar was standing directly over Ishida. It was not tall, but it was an imposing creature. It wore its zanpakutou through a spirit chain hole in its ribs. "Pretty little eyepieces," it said of Ishida's glasses. "They draw attention to your blue eyes."

Ishida stared.

"Luppi, _Sexta Espada_," said the Arrancar. "What's _your_ name?"

"Uryuu."

"Uryuu? You even smell like a courtesan. Like flowers from the Living World. What are you doing here?"

Flowers? Maybe the Arrancar could detect the bath oils Inoue-san had seeped onto his clothing all yesterday.

Luppi's long sleeve touched Ishida on the side of his face and feathered slowly to the center of his chest. "You will go with my décor, I think. I will have to take you to my room myself, however, since you seem to lose your way around here."

Ishida could not summon the bow over something like this; he did not want to reveal himself and draw attention to Inoue-san.

"I told you," he said. "I belong to Orihime-sama. Aizen-sama would not be pleased if--"

"Ha! I wouldn't put it past that dotty little girl to acquire a slave and then forget where she wanted to send him. Oh my, she annoys me. I'm going to have to rip her head off one of these days."

Ishida narrowed his eyes.

The white sleeve continued down the length of Ishida's body and paused right above his crotch. Ishida glared at Luppi's face as if the glare alone could stop him. Maybe it could?

"First," said Luppi, "I have a very boring assembly that I need to miss. Follow me, _muchacho_--if you _are _a male that is. I want to find out for certain."

-----

Almost everyone in Las Noches despised Luppi but no one more than the Hollow. After his birth, the Hollow had turned his face to the skies in time to see the Arrancar ascending in columns of Negacion. One of them, this Luppi creature, the ugliest by far, dripping blood and icy water over the battle scene, had noticed the Other's transformation to Hollow. Luppi had lowered his heavy-lidded, feminine eyes towards earth and cackled some remark about the ugliness of common Hollow.

The Hollow had sworn to kill him then and there. Arriving at Aizen's palace, he certainly tried, but every time he ripped Luppi apart in battle trials there was always that princess girl to heal him.

And now there was Luppi, toying with some servant.

"Heeeeeeeeeee!" The Hollow flash-stepped next to the Arrancar. "Stop tentacling the trash and use your arms to fight me. I will rip them off even faster this time."

The Arrancar shot the Hollow a bored look. "Go away. Go haunt the Hall of Justice."

The servant who Luppi had been harassing stepped away with a loud intake of breath.

The Hollow turned to look upon the sorry creature, and his eyes met the dark blue eyes of a human-looking thing.

"Oh shit," the thing said.

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Mild sexual innuendo, violence, reference to character deaths

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Six

The _Other_ recognized Ishida right away and gasped the name.

The Hollow bristled under the Other's influence and felt a familiar, creeping urge to murder begin in his bones.

So this pathetic, collared creature was someone named _Ishida?_

Not another nuisance like Inoue! The Hollow had taken to speeding away at the sight of the girl because the Other would give him Hell about her. _"Stop! She's not worth killing." _But the Hollow never had understood why he shouldn't kill Inoue. First, she healed almost everyone he destroyed and that was annoying. Second, if he killed her, Aizen would be pissed and ready to fight. But no, whatever feeble argument the Other championed for sparing the girl always tore at the Hollow's spine and kept him from swatting her dead. _"Wait,"_ the Other would say. _"If you're the big mighty king, you can show a little patience. The real war starts later. Don't mess up your chance to destroy Aizen."_

And now here was another face that the Other knew.

The Hollow grabbed Ishida by the top of the head.

Ishida's eyes were wide, and the Other's voice shouted behind the Hollow's ear: _"Stop! He's not worth killing!"_

The Hollow laughed a shrieking laugh. "Is this yours, Luppi?" His fingers kneaded Ishida's hair.

Luppi rolled his long-lashed eyes ceilingward. "He's Orihime's servant. Pull his head off, and she just might put it back on. She probably has developed that talent by now." The Hollow was amused by how unconcerned Luppi pretended to be under the threat of anyone's dismemberment. "After all we've seen her do," Luppi went on, folding his bell-sleeved arms before his chest, "I wouldn't be surprised if she can raise the dead."

The Hollow turned to stare into the servant's blue eyes. Defiant kid. Really tough even though he was scared.

"I don't care if you kill him," said Luppi. "I told you. He's not mine."

"Well now he's MINE," screeched the Hollow, and with one blurry motion, he grabbed Ishida by the waist and was dashing down the hall.

At the turn of the corner, the Hollow tossed Ishida against the wall. It was an effortless pitch, not one meant to cause damage, but the miserable human cried out as his shoulder smacked the hard white quartz. And when he slid to the floor, he did not rise again. For one so weak, though, his eyes shone with an admirable ferocity.

"Why are you doing this, Kurosaki?"

"Listen to you!" The Hollow laughed. "You are in no place to ask anything of me."

"Your friends, your family!" The human was hissing the words in a low voice--as if it mattered that no one else hear. "You're betraying us all by joining Aizen!"

The Hollow knew memories but felt no feelings about the humans called _friends_ and _family._ Those feelings belonged to the Other and held no sway over the Hollow whatsoever. A boy who shot bright arrows at Hollow. Someone bowed over a piece of cloth … the skinny fingers fidgeting with a tiny, glinting instrument. Wind blowing black strands of hair across a self-satisfied face … the declaration _"Next time we meet, Kurosaki, it will be as enemies."_

"I'm not Kurosaki Ichigo," the Hollow said, "but I know that you are _Ishida_, and you're the smart one, and you think you've got some plan to take down Aizen yourself, don't you?"

Ishida stared.

"I don't know why you came here," the Hollow went on, "but you've walked into your Death. When _**I** _entered Las Noches, the guards bowed and Aizen himself appeared to greet me."

Indeed they had. The Living World, haunted by coarse stupid Hollow worthy of Luppi's insult, did not challenge the Hollow. But the majesty of Arrancar ascending in Negacion appealed to his vanity, so he had gone there. The moment he had ripped through the skies, a coterie of white-robed creatures appeared to be lined up, waiting for him. And Aizen had said, _"I know that you've come to kill me, but believe me, it is not our time yet. We will fight another day."_

Maybe it was not the day to fight Ishida either. Whatever rival the boy had been to Kurosaki Ichigo once, this Quincy-turned-plaything of Las Noches was truly not worth killing.

But the Hollow _wanted_ to kill him. Maybe his death would shut up the Other.

Ishida tilted his head and grimaced. It looked like his shoulder hurt. "There's still time," he said. "You couldn't save Kuchiki-san, but you can save Inoue-san."

The Hollow threw back his head. "I don't save anyone. I don't protect anyone. That's an obsession of the Shinigami. I fight for the power and the joy. Look at me and look at you, and tell me which of us is going to walk away from this encounter."

"You can still save Inoue-san," Ishida repeated.

The Hollow sniffed the air. "You smell like her. You're both useless humans, and you're both going to die. Neither of you will put up any resistance either--that's how weak you are."

"I won't let you hurt Inoue-san."

"There's no saving anyone, Ishida. The universe will turn inside out the way your Shinigami friend did, and I will be king of it."

Ishida made a growling noise as he lifted his injured arm. The sleeve fell away, and the Hollow noticed the Quincy object glinting at Ishida's wrist.

Then a silver web of light appeared.

"You're kidding," said the Hollow.

"STOP IT!"

It had not been the Other's voice. It was Inoue's voice. The girl was standing there with an Arrancar handmaiden, and both carried baskets that reeked of the Living World … that smelled like…

s_trawberry tarts?_

"Ichigo," said Aizen's princess in a very regal tone, "leave my servant alone. Uryuu, put that weapon away."

"He's armed?" The handmaiden dropped her basket and materialized her zanpakutou. "Querida, I told you he was trouble."

The Hollow took a springing step and rose to levitate far above the scene. The ceilings of Las Noches were ridiculously high, and to the beings below, it would be as if he had flash-stepped away. But he was hovering there, watching them.

The human's strange bow vanished. The princess ran to the injured servant's side, and the handmaiden withdrew her weapon. Just another ordinary skirmish in the halls of Las Noches and Inoue healing the fallen one. The incident would not attract attention.

"_You didn't kill him," _said the Other.

"What does it matter to you? I'm going to destroy Aizen, whatever the cost, remember? These humans are petty change."

"_Ishida's right,"_ said the Other. _"Inoue-san can still be saved."_

"Shut up," said the Hollow. "There will be nothing but blood and destruction in the world from here on."

He wished he could make the Other disappear. The Other had no influence now, but he was still there. The Hollow could sense his sorrow--he didn't feel it, but he sensed it, as if that sorrow were spoken in another language, muffled behind an invisible wall.

-----

The moment Inoue-san touched Ishida's shoulder, it was healed. That was it--no summoning of Shun Shun Rika. There was a difference to her touch from what he had felt when she had clung, crying, to him yesterday. Here was power. Here was confidence.

Inoue did not remove her palm from Ishida's shoulder. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No." Ishida was looking into her large gray eyes. "Your powers have increased, Inoue-san. There were shattered bones in this arm."

Inoue did not look away. "Your reiatsu when you summoned that bow was small enough to go unnoticed here. I told you this sort of power could stand against an Arrancar but not … not _him_."

"The boy is trouble," said Lastimada who was standing over the pair.

"We have to leave," said Ishida in a soft voice. He knew that he was pleading for a lost cause. "One step. Take us home _now._"

Inoue-san seemed unmoved. "Lastimada," she said, not looking away from Ishida, "Go back to your quarters and speak nothing of this."

"Orihime-sama!" There was a rustle of fabric as the handmaiden bowed deeply. "Aizen-sama will find out about Uryuu somehow. If Ichigo doesn't bother to tell him, someone else will. You're too attached to the boy. It's a human failing."

"Lastimada," Inoue-san said calmly. _"Go."_

Lastimada left, and Inoue remained kneeling, hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on Ishida's.

"I'm not going to beg you to go back by yourself to the Living World, because I know you won't. But please, stay in my rooms. Almatriste and Lastimada can be trusted."

"Kurosaki has already recognized me."

"It doesn't matter."

"He called me _Ishida_. He's going to reveal me, and you will be in danger. The world will be in danger."

"_It doesn't matter."_ Inoue-san leaned over and cupped Ishida's face in her hands. The intimacy of the gesture startled him. Even though they had slept together in the same room two nights, and for one of those nights, she had been huddled against him, the feeling of her palms against his cheeks now … and her fragrant hair so close … it was unnerving. The corridor was huge and empty, but what if someone--?

"I'm going to get the hougyoku," she said. "I know it can save Kurosaki-kun."

"There's not enough time," said Ishida. Her attachment to Kurosaki was still heart-breaking. She was going to die for Kurosaki. "You don't have a plan. Aizen won't let you near it."

"No, I do have a plan," said Inoue-san. "I have to tell him that I've gotten my memory back."

-----

The gathering of the Espada was brief and perfunctory. Luppi complained about Ichigo, and Aizen responded with his customary calm, saying "Ichigo will be dealt with. His power exceeds all of yours now, but unless he stays in this Hollow form until the hougyoku matures, his transformation to Arrancar may be compromised. Yes, I realize he's out of control now, but I trust that you (here, Aizen always nodded with sublime condescension at whichever Arrancar was complaining about Ichigo) can hold your own against his antics. Think of it as training."

Ulquiorra was asked to supervise the day's battle trials, and no Espada were assigned to battle one another. "The princess will not be available for a while," Aizen said as he rose from his throne. "Whoever is severely injured within the next few hours will not be healed."

As the Arrancar drifted away from the Assembly, the voice of one rang above the others: "Ichimaru-sama never fights because he doesn't have to. He's like our Aizen-sama."

At those words, Ichimaru Gin appeared at one of the room's doors, unnoticed by the Arrancar but plain in Aizen's view. "Did you hear that, Sousuke? The Espada look up to me too, even though I'm not exactly the military leader type."

"Why are you here?"

"Oh, you're going to love this."

"I will?" Aizen smiled as he walked unhurriedly to Gin's side. "Aren't you usually indulging your natural deviousness at this hour? Playing with a pretty courtesan? Reading my diary?"

"I do business every once in a while," said Gin. "I didn't spend all those years in the Gotei 13 without learning that even a talented man has to prove his talent every now and then."

Gin gestured with his head in the direction of his quarters.

"Your daughter," said Gin as the two men walked the hall, "is hiding a human. Not just an ordinary human. A boy with powers."

"I know this already," said Aizen.

Gin opened his eyes.

"You forget that Ulquiorra has extensive footage of that battle where we suspect Ichigo became a Hollow. I recognized him. A boy with glasses and a bow and arrow? I knew who he was the moment security tagged his image at the entrance to Las Noches."

"But he has powers," said Gin. "More than likely he was one of those targeted by your Menos hybrids in the Living World, and now he's here. Wouldn't it be demoralizing to your troops if they found out that some human brat pulled one over on you?" Gin made a whistling sound through his teeth and shook his head. "Why let him live? Don't tell me it's because you're _that_ sweet on Orihime."

"Maybe I am," said Aizen. "In any event, the boy is no trouble."

"He faced Ichigo today, summoned his weapon and walked away unscathed."

Aizen looked surprised at this bit of information. "Really? Still, that's of no concern to me. Ichigo's murderous sprees are whimsical. Maybe he got distracted by another plaything and let the boy live."

The men had arrived at Gin's foyer.

"In his Shinigami incarnation, Ichigo was friends with that boy," Gin said. "You can't afford to let the boy live. He may still have some influence on Ichigo."

Gin then gestured to a large sofa. It was bright green, obviously upholstered with recent materials from the Living World. On a far end sat a nervous looking Arrancar.

"Lastimada," said Gin. "Will you please tell Aizen-sama what you just now told me?"

_TBC_


	7. Chapter 7

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Mild sexual innuendo, violence, reference to character deaths

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

A/N: I apologize for the formatting of previous chapters posted here. I'd forgotten that this site does not format asterisks or double spacing between paragraphs, and I make frequent use of asterisks to distinguish changes of POV. I hope I've fixed the problem now and that reading the story is easier. debbiechan

Part Seven

Orihime had never hated anyone. Not anyone. She could hold no grudge or bitterness, not even towards the parents who had abandoned her years ago. She had vague visceral memories of those times--the pain of being struck with the flat heel of a woman's shoe, the comfort of being carried away by Sora's arms. But those parents who had been cruel to her--maybe, she reasoned, they had sad stories behind their actions. Remembering her mother's frequent tears, Orihime could not anything but feel sympathy for her.

Orihime's anger was sharp and short-lived. Her temper could fly like Tsubaki and cut once, but that was it. Tatsuki always said of their arguments that Orihime was apologizing before anyone knew she had been offended. Orihime knew that chewing on anger was a wasteful past-time, even a harmful one. The last time Orihime had indulged in an angry fit was when she had yelled at Sora about the ugly hairpins. She could remember sitting in a corner and thinking: _"He should know. I'm not a baby. I don't wear baby hairpins. I will look like a baby in those stupid hairpins with this horrible short hair. Stupid, stupid Onii-chan." _And then her brother had not come home.

Orihime knew how to love. After the death of her brother, there had been an emptiness in which people gathered, one after the other. First, the boy who had answered the door at the Kurosaki Clinic. His funny face, his kindnesses--how could she _not_ love him? Then Tatsuki, who understood that it wasn't the short hair Orihime was embarrassed about; it was being victimized and made to feel incompetent by those girls with scissors. Tatsuki, who walked by Orihime's side and made Orihime feel safe. There would never again be an emptiness; Orihime knew how to fill it with a sweet, mad thankfulness for her life and friends.

She was even thankful, in an odd way, for her time in Hueco Mundo. She had discovered friendship and kindness even here. She could not walk the halls of Las Noches without being stirred by its austere beauty.

The tall, barred windows that lined most of the palace were non-existent near Aizen's private quarters. The walls held their own energy and reflected reiatsu with a cold whiteness. Orihime was always cold here. She had once planned to make a heavy cloak for herself to wear inside the palace, since she rarely went outdoors… except for that one time when she had found Ishida-kun. Now, though, she planned to wander Las Noches in a cloak sewn by Ishida-kun.

"_I can hide my reiatsu,"_ she had said to him, "_but not my face! Isn't that funny? If I look for the hougyoku wearing a hooded cloak, there is less of a chance that someone like Ulquiorra or door sentinels will recognize me."_

Ishida-kun had begrudgingly taken up the basket of sewing materials. _"For you, Inoue-san. But if you can't find the hougyoku within one day, we have to go home. It will be too dangerous here."_

Orihime turned the corner into the anteroom to Aizen's quarters.

I_shida-kun is right about Aizen being an evil man._

Aizen-sama was leaving her heart, not all at once, but bit by bit. And the space he was leaving was raw and cold. Orihime knew that she should be feeling hate.

She still felt love.

Aizen was sitting on a huge white couch by a tall white vase. Guards had been dismissed. Gin wasn't there.

"I've been waiting for you," Aizen said.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Orihime stammered. "I--I--spent too much time sewing again, and I must have lost track of time--"

"No, no, not that." Aizen patted the place next to him. "Sit down. Assembly let out early, and I was here alone with my thoughts. I was thinking about how I have been _waiting for you_ ever since you were born."

Orihime sat down and didn't understand.

She didn't understand a lot of things. How Aizen could claim that his goal was peace and a new universe and yet he was willing to slaughter innocents to get there. Why Aizen had told her that he was her father.

"You see, my dear," Aizen went on, "I have been waiting for you to ask me about the hougyoku. I know that you, like the hougyoku, need time to mature."

"Well … ." Orihime smoothed her palms across her skirt and didn't know if she could really carry this off. "I _am_ very curious about it."

In a lilting, resonant voice--the voice of a father reading stories to his child--Aizen began to tell Orihime about how she and the hougyoku were similar. That she and the hougyoku were not only conduits for energy but contained their own special power. How combined with the reiatsu of the very strong, they could create new creatures, new worlds, new realities. Orihime had heard all this before.

"I want you to understand, Aizen-sama," Orihime said, "that I am so in awe of your vision that I never understood how someone like me could be that important to it."

"Humility suits you," Aizen said, "The Arrancar are all so proud. When you are an Arrancar, your quiet strength and belief in yourself will outshine all their bravado."

"Belief in myself?" Here's where Orihime knew she had to put on a convincing lie. "I have been so full of doubt recently, Aizen-sama."

Not a bat of an eyelash, no surprise. "Oh?"

"Aizen-sama, you have to understand that I believe in your goals with all my heart, that I want to fulfill my destiny, that I will always see you as my father--"

"But?"

Orihime felt her heart in her throat. She spoke the words: _"I have been remembering a life in the Living World."_

Aizen was silent for a moment, and then he heaved a small sigh. "I have been expecting this."

Orihime felt a trembling begin inside her. "You have?"

"Orihime, my darling girl, do you understand why I put you under the spell of my kidou when you came here? Do you know why I stood over you and told you that I was your father?"

"No," said Orihime, "but I figure it had to do something with saving the universe?" Her eyes were beginning to water. _Don't mess this up, don't mess this up._

"Tell me," said Aizen, "tell me that the pain when Ulquiorra brought you here was bearable, that you could have lived through it with your sanity intact."

Orihime could not, in truth, remember that moment. She could, however, remember what passed in the minutes before that moment. She turned away from Aizen's face and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Ulquiorra," she said. "Ulquiorra told me that I had no choice but to go with him or else my friends would die."

"It was only natural that you would resist him, my dear," said Aizen, "but I had not expected you to. I expected you to come willingly. You are, after all, such a humble girl, and not a fighter."

That day Orihime had released Tsubaki, aiming with all her heart and everything she had learned from Kuchiki-san about the _will to kill _at the strange Arrancar's face. A mere tilt of the head and the Arrancar dodged the attack. He was that quick. It had been that feeble of an attempt to kill him.

"_Or your friends will die,"_ Ulquiorra had said, grabbing her by the arm.

Tsubaki had sped back to her hairpin. Orihime had felt the fullness of her power, but in one moment, all her faith in herself had been shattered. She was unable to move. Ulquiorra caught her under the arm as her body sagged, and she was transported to the Living World.

There, Kurosaki-kun and Kuchiki-san were facing a one-armed being with blue-green hair.

"_Kill him, Grimmjow,"_ Ulquiorra had said.

Orihime sat on Aizen's couch and wondered if targeting Kurosaki-kun, too, had been part of the mission. Had Aizen _wanted_ Kurosaki-kun to turn into a horrible monster? Orihime knew all about that monster; she had sensed it inside Kurosaki before. She felt it lurch that day; she felt it heaving its will against Kurosaki's soul.

"The things you saw that day," Aizen said. "They were not planned. Your friends were casualties of their own hubris. Ulquiorra was under my orders to retrieve you, and he threatened your friends again only to keep you from attacking again. Not because you were dangerous to him, but because you were dangerous to yourself."

Orihime knew that she was visibly trembling now. He was a liar, but unlike herself, Aizen was such a _good_ liar.

"Only I and the hougyoku know how to manifest your power properly," said Aizen. "That's why I had to bring you here. That's why I had to make you my charge, my duty, my daughter."

Orihime shut her eyes.

"You remember now?" asked Aizen in a quiet voice.

Yes, she had remembered bits and pieces on the bathroom floor as she leaned, naked and sobbing, against Ishida-kun. She had remembered rising into the sky inside a clear tunnel and seeing the carnage below. The green-haired Arrancar was down. Kurosaki-kun was down. Rangiku-san, Toushiro-san, covered in blood, and Kuchiki-san….

"I still don't remember everything about that day," said Orihime, "except leaving the battle scene and knowing that I would not be there to heal the wounded."

"You were inconsolable when you arrived," Aizen said. "I sedated you; I put your past life to sleep. But I knew you would remember it one day. I knew that until you were strong enough to remember your past, you would not be strong enough to meet your destiny."

"You knew?" So Orihime's instincts had been right; Aizen had been wanting her to remember all along.

"The sewing articles, the foods, all the items from the Living World," Aizen said. "Ulquiorra had researched your life thoroughly. We knew the tiny things that would jar your memory. I wanted you to put the pieces of your past life together little by little. That is how a palace is built, my dear--stone by stone. That is how one grows strong--lesson by lesson."

Orihime looked at her lap. Wow. None of Aizen's cues had been working at all. She had been completely oblivious to them, and none of her memory had returned until Ishida-kun made her that towel. Looking at the names of her friends had allowed memories to come pouring out in a rush. Maybe that's what saved her. Maybe her own dumb resistance to clues like red bean paste had saved her from Aizen's manipulation, while Ishida-kun's towel--

"You wanted me to remember?" Orihime had only guessed at this after regaining her memory. The red bean paste--Aizen had seemed overly-eager for her to taste it.

"Yes." Aizen smiled. "And that is why I say _I have been waiting for you_."

-----

White and blue were traditional Quincy colors, and Ishida resented that the Arrancar made so much use of them in Las Noches. Granted, the blues were darker, approaching midnight, and the whites were too glossy (Arrancar robes looked luminous in the strange indoor lighting of the palace), but Ishida could not see them and not think of how high these monsters were and how the Quincy were extinct … all but the _one_ Quincy who would help bring the Arrancar _down._

Ishida bowed over his needlework and felt a little smug. Maybe Inoue-san's plan would work, and the two of them could deliver the hougyoku into Urahara's hands. That would be … magnificent. Still, Inoue-san's plan was dangerous, and he was hoping that she would spirit them home, hougyoku or no hougyoku, if things started to go wrong.

"I surprised that Querida wanted to use spirit cloth for this coat," said Almatriste. "She's been so enraptured of Living World things lately."

"Spirit cloth is the only proper fabric for a princess," said Lastimada. "I'm surprised she didn't want to stitch it herself, though. She's made all her other formal clothes."

"Uryuu sews better," said Almatriste.

Rarely did Inoue-san leave her rooms without one of her handmaidens, but today's appointment with Aizen was a private, special one, and so the handmaidens were hovering around Ishida.

Ishida didn't like their presence but he tolerated it.

Of course, Inoue-san had wanted her cloak to be white. Inconspicuous Arrancar white. Ishida, however, could not help but add a personal touch to the garment. No one would notice it. It disappeared when one snapped the cloak closed at the collar.

"Oh that's pretty," said Almatriste as Ishida sewed the decoration on the cloth. "What is it?"

"Nothing really," said Ishida. "A six-pointed blue star. I was thinking of her hairpins when I cut it out. All I wanted to do was put a marker inside the cloak to show where the top snap is. You know how easy it is to misalign your snaps."

He was involved with pulling out pins from hems, and he scarcely noticed that Almatriste was stepping closer to him. He didn't trust her, but he didn't fear her--even though her reiatsu was superior to his. There was a simplicity about her that he was certain could be outwitted.

She cast no shadow over Ishida as he worked. Her reiatsu was a soft, efficient hum. The Arrancar seemed to be very contained beings--until releasing their zanpakutou, probably.

Ishida had emphasized to Inoue-san that she should not give any unnecessary information to either of her servants, but he sensed that the handmaidens posed less of a threat to Inoue's safety than Aizen or higher-seated Arrancar. Maybe they could even unwittingly help him and Inoue-san escape Hueco Mundo.

"You care for her too much, you know," said Almatriste.

"Hmm?" Ishida tried to appear nonchalant, but his cheeks felt warm. There would never be any hiding his feelings about Inoue-san.

"You should get over it," said Almatriste. "Next week there will another servant, and maybe another lover, and when she is an Arrancar, you will not be allowed near her. She will probably have you placed somewhere nice, an enviable servant's position, but you will not see her again."

Ishida lay down his needle and looked away. He was not going to address the _lover_ issue. "It does not matter to me where I am," he said, and his words had the ring of truth. "All I want is for her to be happy and _safe_ wherever she is."

-----

Aizen placed his hand on Orihime's shoulder. "What I wanted," he said, "was for you to remember your life in the Living World and to renounce it anyway--for me."

Orihime was no longer trembling. Doubt had made her shiver, and now she did not have doubts about Aizen's intentions. She could look into Aizen's eyes and see malice. She could not, however, look into her own heart and find malice _there_.

"I still care for you," she said, and it was not a lie. Her next words, though, were a lie: "I believe in all your ideals and that everything you have done is for the greater good."

"Good," said Aizen. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Now what did you want to know about the hougyoku?"

"You told me once…." Orihime did not move away from Aizen on the couch--even though she wanted to. She did not want to betray a posture of trust and closeness. "You said that once I was ready, I would be able to hold the hougyoku and use its power. I always wondered why I could not sense this thing, even with my abilities to sense reiatsu behind all sorts of barriers."

Aizen smiled. "Did you think I would make such a precious thing easily accessible to anyone?"

"Oh, I know you've put it somewhere safe," Orihime said, "but these past few days as I--as I was doubting my ability to serve you because I was remembering my past life…. I was wondering…."

Aizen's eyes were intent on her own.

"I was wondering, Aizen-sama, if you say that the hougyoku and I are alike and have similar powers… if … if …."

"If it would heal you?"

"Heal me?" Whatever did Aizen mean by that? "Actually, I was wondering if my holding the hougyoku would seal my allegiance to you somehow. If I can't witness one of your assemblies, then maybe you could take it out and show it to me in private? Maybe you can cast a bonding kidou between it and myself. I should be an Arrancar already. You could make me an Arrancar with the hougyoku."

There. She had said it. Getting Aizen to initiate the Arrancar transformation would be the easiest way to get the hougyoku in her sight.

"Don't you remember, my dear?"

"What?"

"What I said was that the day you are ready, you will be able to find the hougyoku yourself. There already exists a bond between it and you."

Orihime put her hand to her heart. "There does?" Oh, so that's why the plan had come to her. She already knew what to do. Did the bond pre-exist Aizen? Had he created it? "I--I thought you were talking metaphorically. Like, one day I would wear it on a necklace--did you say something like that or am I not remembering right? Of course, it make a rather awkward necklace, wouldn't it? A big crystal ball like that."

Aizen chuckled. He actually chuckled. It was a deep, pleasant sound, but it worried Orihime.

"You, of all special beings," said Aizen. "You who can pass through all barriers and stroll the paths between Heaven and Earth, you will be able to find the hougyoku in this palace when you are ready. And you, my dear, are far from ready."

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: Orihime acquires a slave in Hueco Mundo--_Ishida._

Warnings: Mild sexual innuendo, violence, reference to character deaths

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Eight

"You _WHAT?"_

Ishida's hands rose in a panicked gesture as he gasped the words, and Inoue-san caught his fingers with hers. That physical contact, to his surprise, did calm him.

For a moment, he thought that they looked like Elizabethan dancers facing one another in some scene from Shakespeare. Then worry possessed him again.

"You told me," Ishida said, "that you were going to convince him _to_ _give you the hougyoku_--or at the very least, you'd get a decent clue as to where he kept it. You did _not _tell me you were going to offer yourself to be turned into an Arrancar or--"

"But I was right about his wanting my memory back, wasn't I?" Her eyes were bright and hopeful. Ishida had not seen her look this carefree since before she remembered her kidnapping. "I just have a _feeling_," she said, "that I can find it. He said there was a bond. I always knew there was a bond."

"This is ridiculous," Ishida said and pulled back his hands. He sat down with an abrupt huff on the edge of the bed. "Aizen is a master manipulator. You can't trust a thing he says. He can create illusions--we learned of that in Soul Society. He probably carries the hougyoku with him at all times, and here you are telling me that _you can take it from him without his knowing?_"

"I just feel things," Inoue-san said, "and I know they're true."

Ishida did not want to insult her, so he kept quiet about the simple fact that for days and days she had believed that she was a being created by Aizen.

"I know that intuition isn't always right," she said, as if reading his thoughts, "but logic isn't always right either. We have to use both. You're logical, and I'm intuitive; we can work together."

All that afternoon the two had been going back and forth over the issue of whether or not Kurosaki the Hollow could be changed back. Inoue-san was convinced that either witnessing the hougyoku's powers or getting Aizen to start the Arrancar process on herself would give her the answer. The hougyoku, Ishida had argued, was important to the course of the war, but its retrieval should only be attempted if there was a decent chance of success. He said that their own lives mattered more to the war effort at this point than Kurosaki's--for all they knew, even if they _had_ the hougyoku and the means to change Kurosaki, the Hollow who used to be their friend would still squash them.

"He won't," Inoue-san said. "He's had all this time to kill either of us if he wants to, and he hasn't."

Ishida felt distressed that Inoue-san was willing to risk so much for Kurosaki.

"Sometimes," he said, "there are matters more important than one's feelings for just one person."

Inoue-san looked appalled at that statement. "Are you saying that the course of the war should override my wanting to help …." Her eyes looked downward, and her eyelashes fluttered over her blushing cheeks. "Kurosaki-kun is our friend. Who are we if we are always worrying about things bigger than friendship? We would be like Aizen if we put things like _the universe_ and _the war _over--"

Ishida must have looked hurt, because when her eyes rose to meet his, she waggled her hands before her and attempted to erase her words. "I didn't mean that you were like Aizen! I didn't mean that at all! I know that you're worried about me and that you want me to be safe! But I'm so, so, _so_ worried about Kurosaki-kun. I didn't get a chance to help the others that day--maybe I can still save him."

Ishida thought of his grandfather, and he knew perfectly well the desperation behind not being able to save someone.

He started to gather empty snack cartons from the floor. "Dinner," if one could call it that, had consisted of profoundly non-nutritious packaged foods from the Living World. Almatriste had set a large basket of candies, chips, and juice-boxes at the foot of the bed and then had left him and the princess alone.

Inoue-san didn't even have to ask the handmaidens to leave anymore; they left intuitively at the merest exchange of eye contact between him and the princess. Although it was very convenient for Ishida to be thought of as "Querida's lover," Inoue-san, typically, seemed to have no clue that this was what was going on.

"You didn't eat much again," she said. Her hands grabbed him by the elbows to get his attention away from picking up trash. Her familiarity unsettled his senses; ever since their night huddled together, she seemed to have no qualms about touching him all over. "Let's just rest. We can talk about all this again in the morning. We have _time_."

"Inoue-san, I should not be sleeping in this room tonight."

"Why?" Such an innocent face.

"It--it isn't proper."

Her eyes said that she didn't care about proper.

-------

Almatriste and Lastimada sat in a large white drawing room decorated with plastic flowers, checker-print curtains, and macramé wall hangings. Living world candles burned--the combined scents of lavender, caramel apple, and French vanilla. A CD player was playing music by an artist formerly known as Prince:

S_eems that I was busy doing something close to nothing  
_B_ut different than the day before  
_T_hat's when I saw her, ooh, I saw her  
_S_he walked in through the out door, out door…._

"If the boy's presence doesn't bother Aizen-sama," said Almatriste, "then I see no reason why it should concern us.

"Orihime-sama is letting him walk around with his collar undone, and the boy has _powers. _He may not be able to use them against Aizen-sama or Querida, but who's to say Uryuu won't turn against _us?_"

"You worry too much. Worrying doesn't become an Arrancar. Fretting and moaning and longing are what inferior Hollow do. We should be gracious and calm--like our Aizen-sama."

The handmaidens told themselves that filling a cool white room with loudly-colored trinkets was an act of supremacy over Living World enemies. Aizen tolerated the display of these silly things, and no, no, _no_, they had _no_ nostalgia for their Hollow lives whatsoever. From what little either remembered, a Hollow's life was ceaseless wretchedness--a lonely yearning for the company of pitiful humans.

Sometimes Almatriste openly envied her mistress' ability to express strong feelings. _"Listen to that laugh of yours. Brighter and more magical than any human's I can recall_. _You're like a super-charged human, Querida--a human with spectacular extras bequeathed to you by your father."_ It seemed as though a being who could laugh and weep with such vigor would also be able to feel the utmost pleasure. "

Pleasure--the kind that came from fulfilling a deep yearning--was a dim memory.

T_he rain sounds so cool when it hits the barn roof  
_A_nd the horses wonder who you are…._

"How _long_ have they been _in _there?" asked Lastimada of her mistress and her servant in the adjoining bedroom.

"It's not our concern," said Almatriste. "Aizen-sama hasn't taken Uryuu away yet. Maybe he set him up to be given to our princess in the first place. You know how he's always providing her with special food and drink."

"Appetites," scoffed Lastimada and folded her arms.

Almatriste was flipping through a box of CD's. She liked this music and was wondering if there was more like it.

S_he wore a raspberry beret, _

T_he kind you find in a second-hand store_

S_he wore a raspberry beret_

A_nd if it was warm, she wouldn't wear much more…._

--------

Inoue-san had washed her hair and wrapped it in the long body towel with embroidered Living World names. She was wearing a light sleep kimono that she must have made herself because it did not resemble Arrancar clothing. Arrancar clothing was cut in severe patterns, seamed with spiritrons, and did not reflect the white light of the walls.

Thinking about clothes kept Ishida's mind from thinking about the bodies under them.

What was he supposed to do? Aizen had said that Inoue-san was not ready to find the hougyoku, and perhaps that meant that she had to wait until the hougyoku itself matured before she could find it. Was Ishida going to have to wait, here in Las Noches, with the princess until that time? Was he--for a full month at least!--going to have to keep up the impossible argument that they should _just leave?_

"You're still hurting about Aizen not being your father," Ishida said solemnly. He wondered if he would have to hold Inoue-san again in the bed.

"Yes," she admitted. "But speaking to him today felt like saying goodbye. I could tell that he didn't really care for me. It was in his eyes."

"I'm…." Ishida sat down on the mat he had slept upon the first night in the princess' room. "I'm sorry, Inoue-san."

Why was he doing this to himself? The sound of her voice, the sight of her white throat at the collar of her kimono--these things made him feel warm and weak. If he was going to protect her, he needed to be icy calm and ready to summon his powers at a moment's notice.

"I can't help but wonder," Inoue said. "If maybe Aizen can't be saved too."

Now this was _really_ going too far.

"What?" Ishida shook his head. "Oh no. NO. This man is the one who has caused all this misery. We went over this, Inoue-san. The Arrancar he created--unconscionable! I know you care for the guards and the servants around here. I know you care for everyone. But Aizen is evil and not to be spared." Ishida bit his lip to keep from escalating into a sputtering frenzy. "Think of it, Inoue-san. _Aizen_ is the one responsible for Kurosaki being lost to us. _Aizen_ is responsible for the monster Kurosaki is now."

"Not exactly," she said. Her face took on that seriousness that Ishida had seen when she was about to intuit something fairly astute. That face on Soukyoku Hill, lit by glowing flashes of combat. The face that understood Kurosaki like no one else did.

"When that Arrancar struck down Kuchiki-san," Inoue said softly, "that was when Kurosaki-kun screamed. You didn't see it. You were looking at me. Your bow was pointed at Ulquiorra…."

It was somebody's fault indeed--all Aizen's. Didn't she see that? Everyone was trying to save everyone else that day except for Aizen. Aizen wanted Inoue-san for his own selfish, evil, horrible, horrible reasons. He was sitting high and mighty in Las Noches while people fought and died.

"You didn't see him, but I did," Inoue went on. "Kurosaki-kun lost it when Kuchiki-san … died. Then the Arrancar who killed her went down…"

Ishida sighed. He didn't want to face this sadness, but if talking was necessary for Inoue-san….

"The Arrancar's name was Grimmjow--he was the one who had injured Kuchiki-san before. The other Arrancar here made fun of him for falling to Hirako-kun. I don't think they knew who killed Grimmjow, though. The battle was so confusing…."

Those understanding eyes again. Large and gray and full of love for Kurosaki.

"Even through the shield that held me, I could feel how Kurosaki-kun was losing. He was losing to the monster inside him. His zanpakutou was impaled in his own hand, and he pulled it out with the other hand, and flipped it over to the hilt. He…."

Ishida didn't think he could bear the pain in her voice.

"He was going to give Kuchiki-san a soul burial, but…."

Ishida expected Inoue-san to cry, but she didn't.

"He couldn't find her soul," said Inoue in a simple tone. She lowered her head.

Ishida struggled to find the words to comfort her. "Kuchiki-san told us herself," he said, "that when a Shinigami dies, her soul is reborn in the Realm of the Living."

Inoue-san lifted her head. "But when Kuchiki-san left his world," Inoue-san said, "Kurosaki-kun left it too. But where he went--I don't know. Maybe somewhere not nice. That's why it's important that I get him back."

"Maybe…." Ishida dared to voice this thought _only_ because he wanted to convince Inoue-san to give up on the idea of saving Kurosaki and to go home. "Maybe Kurosaki does not want to return to his world if…." His words were soft and measured. _"If Kuchiki-san is not in it."_

Her eyes met his, and they both knew the truth.

K_urosaki Ichigo cared that much for Kuchiki Rukia._

I_noue Orihime cared just as much for Kurosaki Ichigo._

And from the way Inoue's eyes shone with sympathy, Ishida knew that there was another truth she understood now.

I_shida Uryuu cared that much for Inoue Orihime._

He had expected to be ashamed--or at least humbled into looking away. Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on hers, and he welcomed her trust and acceptance. She was his friend. She would not humiliate him… or be unkind … or …

She walked towards him, put her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him.

It was a light brush on the lips, and it caught Ishida completely by surprise. _This is uncalled for. This is not fair. _His whole body flushed, and he could feel heat sting his ears. His hands were moving of their own accord onto her shoulders--to stop her. Yes, to stop her.

But he could not stop her. She kissed him again. Her mouth opened on his this time, and there was a soft wet place where his bottom lip lay against her top one.

They stayed that way a moment.

Ishida felt that his breathing had slowed. Then his face moved forward, and they were _really_ kissing. He had never kissed anyone before, but this was how he had imagined it would be--his longing pressing against someplace that assuaged the longing. She was kissing him back. Her teeth bumped his, and then her head pushed his glasses up so that the lenses were crooked on his forehead, and it wasn't movie-star perfect, but it was _her._

He stopped only to breathe. He pressed his cheek against her ear and hugged her close the way one would greet a longlost friend. He knew it wasn't a romantic gesture. "Why?" He breathed against her ear. "What does this mean?"

"Don't think," she said, and she was kissing him again.

He fell backwards on the mat at the foot of the princess' bed, and she climbed on top of him. Her thighs in the thin robe straddled his, the bath towel fell off her head, and her fragrant wet hair fell against his face.

_TBC_


	9. Chapter 9

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: This A/U begins from the time Orihime was kidnapped and taken to Hueco Mundo, only the events preceding the immediate kidnapping are slightly different (as revealed in this story) This fic is an adventure romance featuring Ishida and Orihime, but there is also implied Ichigo/Rukia and Aizen/Gin.

Warnings: This chapter contains more violence and sexual description than previous chapters. Hard R. Character death.

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Nine

Because Inoue had not shown up to heal the fallen that day, the Hollow killed Luppi.

As soon as Aizen announced that fighters should be careful during battle trials because their princess-healer would be absent, the Espada had exchanged hungry glances and looked determined to kill one another. Shikai were drawn and explosions of energy had rocked the hills outside Las Noches. No Espada was even scratched, but the bodies of unfortunate Hollow covered the tortured landscape.

After the Espada sheathed their zanpakutou and withdrew to the palace, the scavenger Hollow came to eat the bodies of the dead.

The Other had watched. The inner spirit that had once been Kurosaki Ichigo dreaded the day when his Hollow would consume spirits, but his Hollow had merely flown over the carnage, watching limbs and entrails being dragged under the earth.

W_here do Hollow go when they die?_

W_here is Rukia?_

At the threshold of an even more hidden world, the Other told himself that these questions did not matter because of the pact with his Hollow: nothing mattered but Aizen's death. Nothing else could possibly appease this new yearning for vengeance. Sand blew in the Inner World. Sand filled his mouth, and he could not shout to the Hollow.

S_pare Inoue._

S_pare Ishida._

As sand stung his eyes, the Other saw his Hollow drew his zanpakutou.

Z_angetsu!_

The Other watched as his Hollow flash-stepped into Luppi's room and cut the girl-faced Arrancar's head off with a stroke faster than backwards time.

"There, you ugly hybrid. I bet you taste like chicken."

And the Hollow threw Luppi's body to scavengers on the battle field.

-----

"One half-hour!" Aizen called to the princess as she ran out of the breakfast alcove. Then he turned to Gin. "I suppose I can keep the Espada waiting until she shows up for the assembly. I'll have tea served."

"Where do you suppose she's run off to?" Gin was chewing a pickled radishes. He looked at the servant. "Poor man, I always seem to clean off his plate. More, please? For Aizen-sama?"

"It's the boy, no doubt," said Aizen as the servant left. "They were friends in the Living World. He's probably in emotional torture seeing her among the enemy. Orihime is trying to temper the trauma, I suppose. She's kind like that."

"I don't know, Sousuke." Gin shook his head. "Before you know it, they'll be banging one another, and the kid might have some negative influence on your precious."

Aizen smiled. "Actually, I have been hoping that they would become intimate."

Gin stopped chewing.

"I observed," Aizen said, "from my own interactions with the hougyoku, that it is particularly sensitive to sexual energy. Along with a strong reiatsu, a certain _erotic awareness _feeds its functionality." Aizen cast Gin a sidelong look and was answered with a little laugh. "When Orihime first came here," Aizen continued, ignoring Gin's giggles. "I was struck by her naivete and wondered if a more sexual maturity on her part wasn't required before she could interact properly with the hougyoku."

"Really, now? So you did arrange for that pretty human boy to be brought to her after all."

"Oh no," said Aizen. "His arrival was a perfect coincidence. I had been waiting for the right time to deflower Orihime myself."

-----

When Orihime returned to her room, Ishida-kun was lying, arms above his head, fast asleep on her bed.

"Ishida-kun!"

He sat up--eyes wild. "I was asleep."

"It's okay to sleep," she said, sitting next to him. "You're human. You can't stay awake one-hundred-percent of the time to watch over me. That's what I've got Almatriste and Lastimada for."

Ishida rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "No, I should've--"

"No, it's okay. I know you didn't sleep at all last night."

They had spent most of the night in one another's arms. After kissing on the floor until their lips were puffy, Ishida had carried Orihime to the bed. They had touched one another the way they believed people their age were supposed to--hands holding onto upper body parts while their tongues met. Then Orihime's hand had accidentally swept against Ishida's front. This single touch near his kimono sash had elicited a gasp that inspired Orihime to touch there more.

Ishida had tucked his head against Orihime's shoulder and shuddered. He had apologized for it. Later, when Orihime had experienced the same shuddering, she wondered why anyone should apologize for feeling the loveliest thrill in the world.

"Aizen-sama--oops, I mean--" Orihime covered her mouth with her hand and then uncovered it again. "I suppose I should still call him Aizen-sama to keep up appearances, even though I don't see him that way anymore."

Ishida nodded. He looked groggy--hair tousled and eyelids heavy--and Orihime thought he had never looked more beautiful.

"Aizen said that I can witness a demonstration of the hougyoku today! I told him I have some things to do, so the meeting won't be called for another half-hour. I didn't want you to wonder where I was--"

"No," said Ishida. "Your going to one of their assemblies is not a good idea."

Orihime wondered what it was going to take to convince Ishida that she _had_ to see the hougyoku, that it was the key to changing Kurosaki-kun back, but her mind kept drifting to what had happened last night. Ishida-kun finding that place between her legs and stroking there with his long fingers.

Her breathing slowed down. "Ishida-kun," she said. "Luppi-san was killed yesterday, and I know I should be sad about it because it was my fault. I wasn't there to heal him, but…."

He pulled her by the arm, and she fell on top of his chest.

"You're not going to that assembly," he said and kissed her neck.

The kiss made her giggle, and then he pulled down her white blouse by the sleeves and kissed her exposed breasts. The air of Las Noches was cold and goose-pimpled her skin, but Ishida-kun's mouth was warm.

"Uryuu," she said, loving the soft cooing sound of the vowels in his first name.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, and he pulled up her skirts with a flourish. In another instant, he was speaking the same words between her thighs. _"You're not…."_ A kiss. _"Going."_ Another kiss. _"Anywhere…."_

Then his warm mouth found her warmest of places.

-----

Yami and Ulquiorra entered the Assembly of Loyalty to find that the room's usual multi-leveled floor had been replaced with one long rectangular table and high-backed chairs. Slender white mugs were placed at each setting, and a servant was pouring … _tea?_

"What the fuck is this?" said Yami.

"Be quiet," said Ulquiorra, "and find your place."

The nine Espada seated themselves without ceremony, and none but Ulquiorra looked at ease with the arrangement. No one drank, as if waiting for their Aizen-sama to give the order. Minutes ticked by, and at last their leader entered the room.

"You were raucous yesterday, gentleman," said Aizen, standing at the head of the table. "In the battle trials, you destroyed every single Hollow candidate for Arrancar status, and it does seem that we are short one Espada."

"Luppi was with us when we left the field," said the female Espada. She was the only Espada who had tolerated the widely-despised Luppi. She was even rumored to like him; the two joked together and laughed about the ugliness of the others' clothes.

"Ichigo probably killed him again," said Yami.

"A reasonable guess," said Aizen. "Ichigo?" He raised his voice a little and called as one would call a dog. _"Ichigo!"_

There was a collective groan at the name. "Not him." "Oh Great Fuck." And "Not that vile, ridiculous Hollow again."

A rush of wind and a blur of black and there was the Hollow standing next to Aizen.

"I did what you asked, Aizen," the Hollow said. "It was a pleasure."

"Appreciated, Ichigo," said Aizen, "and now will you please show the Espada what I asked you to retrieve for me?"

The Hollow rolled a spherical object across the table. When it stopped rolling, the Espada saw that it was a desiccated, severed head--the cheeks peeling gray flesh, and the eyes sunken into black holes--but the tooth comb on top of the black hair told who it was.

"I'll say Luppi's really chucked it this time," said Yami. "The princess wasn't around yesterday, and there's no way anyone can bring him back from _that."_

"It would appear," said Aizen. "that Luppi missed Orihime's healing window of opportunity." He paused for a sip of tea. "But do not underestimate the power of the hougyoku when combined with a powerful reiatsu. At our last demonstration, I was able to show you what the hougyoku could do with _my_ reiatsu, but Orihime's talents are different from mine. That's the way I created her."

Aizen sat in his chair and pressed a button on the arm. "Orihime, my dear, are you coming?"

"Yes," came a breathless voice. "I'm right outside the hall. I'll be at your door in seconds."

"Forgive me for keeping all of you waiting," Aizen went on. "My daughter is a busy girl. Now, this will be her first assembly, and I expect you to welcome her with propriety. Respect her as you would me."

A guardsman opened the door and in came Orihime. She was breathing hard, her lips were red and puffy, and her hair was a little messed-up.

"HI EVERYBODY!" She announced.

Every face was turned to hers, including (although she did not notice it) the shriveled face of Luppi.

"Orihime," said Aizen. "Hold out your hand."

She did so without hesitation, and a small, many-faceted crystalline object appeared hovering above her palm.

"How did that--?" Orihime's eyes were wide, and then she realized what the thing was. Her hand attempted to close around the object, but a bluish energy surrounding it repelled her touching.

"Do you feel your power?" asked Aizen.

"My--mine?" Orihime was wincing because the light from the object was getting brighter. "It's the hougyoku's power."

"Look to the center of the table, my dear, and please do not be alarmed. This is all that's left of--"

Orihime gasped. "Luppi-san!"

"Yes, poor Luppi, who you were not able to heal yesterday. My fault entirely. I let the battle trials go on--knowing full well that you could not attend. We had serious matters to discuss, after all."

"I can't--" The light in Orihime's palm was expanding. It shone against her coppery hair, cast a blinding glow on her reflective white clothes. The seated Espada could no longer see her face. "I can't heal Luppi-san anymore," she said.

"Yes you can," said Aizen in a mild voice. "Do it."

The tiny spirits flew from Orihime's head and threw their golden shield over the table. _"I reject,"_ said Orihime, and there, right before everyone's eyes, the shriveled head began to puff up and pinken.

From a dark bloody hole it grew a torso, then long nude arms and legs. Its eyes opened, and the shield fell away. The spirits flew back to Orihime's hairpins, and the hougyoku lost its blazing light. Everyone was too busy staring at Luppi's naked form lying on the table to notice the hougyoku drop into Orihime's palm.

The Espada were speechless.

Luppi sat up, blinking, and his lower lip trembled. "This only makes me stronger, you know," he said. "You can all stop looking at me like I'm dessert."

"The hougyoku," said Aizen, "is Orihime's parent in a way. Just as I am her parent. We are both nurturing and liberating, and none of the wonders you see would be possible without it and myself. We are the foundation of Orihime's amazing abilities. None of you possess her powers, but you are all, as my creations, beneficiaries of her healing powers. Remember that. Without me, without her, without the hougyoku that made you Arrancar, you would be lost and purposeless as all the Hollow are."

The Hollow, whose lean, black-clothed form had been standing behind Aizen, crossed his arms and asked, "Now?"

"Not yet, Ichigo." Aizen turned to Orihime. "My princess, you may leave. Your part is done."

Orihime looked somewhat confused, as if she had expected more of a ceremony, but then she bowed deeply then rose and waved her hand. "Bye, Luppi-san. It's wonderful to see you again."

The room seemed to relax with the princess' departure. The Espada began to talk amongst themselves, and Luppi pulled his knees to his chin and still sat at the center of the table, looking un-self-conscious and even bored.

"These gentleman," Aizen said with a wide gesture across the table, "do not know of longing or regret. Their Hollow selves are gone. They have taken off their masks."

"Quit it with the Hollow-bashing," the Hollow said. "I'm not going to stand here and be insulted."

"I'm not meaning to insult you, Ichigo," Aizen said. "You are a cherished guest of Las Noches, and your strength and prowess are respected here. I am merely pointing out that you are a Hollow. That is who you are."

"I don't need to be transformed to defeat you or anyone," the Hollow said. "You and I both know that I am waiting for the great war, for the moment you promised when Hollow, Arrancar, humans and spirits would face off for control of All There Is."

"Did I say anything about transformation?" Aizen's expression turned soft. His voice was like the one he used to address Orihime. "Tell me, Ichigo, who is that you long for?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You are a Hollow. You miss your human life, your human friends and family. Tell me, where are they? Are they in the Realm of the Living? Are they in Soul Society? Who do you want returned to you?"

The question hung in the cold air for a moment, and then the Hollow threw his head back and laughed. The bizarre sound made the Espada pay attention.

"No, Aizen," said the Hollow. "This is not going to work on me. There is no going back for me. None whatsoever. He who was Kurosaki Ichigo is defeated. Buried in the sand. There is no way you can bargain with me. Not with any of your resurrection tricks."

"I didn't want to bargain with you," said Aizen. "I wanted to show the Espada something you already know. Please, Ichigo, you may now demonstrate how to make sure that an enemy is beyond the power of Orihime's healing."

The Hollow drew his zanpakutou. It was a sleek black blade, and the Espada had seen what it could do. Each Arrancar drew back in his chair.

"Aizen," the Hollow grumbled, "you talk too much." He threw the blade and impaled it into Luppi's forehead, but the movement happened so fast that no one saw the Hollow draw back his hand.

The Arrancar fell backwards, newly dead.

"Destroy the head," Aizen said. "If the deathblow is to the head, the enemy can not and will not be revived."

-----

Orihime could not believe it. The hougyoku had fallen right into her fist. Believing that she could still feel its hot glow against her palm, she ran all the way to the end of corridor, away from all security check-posts and guards, and leaned, panting, against a cold white wall.

I_f I can bring back Luppi-san, what else can I do?_

She opened her hand.

The hougyoku was not there.

_TBC_


	10. Chapter 10

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: This A/U begins from the time Orihime was kidnapped and taken to Hueco Mundo, only the events preceding the immediate kidnapping are slightly different (as revealed in this story) This fic is an adventure romance featuring Ishida and Orihime, but there is also implied Ichigo/Rukia and Aizen/Gin.

Warnings: References to character death, teenage sexuality, homosexuality, and magical crystal objects. If any of these things bother you, you have been warned.

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Ten

Ishida respected Orihime's abilities. He tried to understand her intuitive wisdom. He believed that she could protect herself. He could _not, _however, fathom why she insisted on staying in Las Noches and why every morning she stood with her hand outstretched and tried to summon the hougyoku.

The way Ishida saw it, Orihime's ability to summon the hougyoku correlated with its maturing in the winter. By that time, her relationship with the mysterious rock could be very dangerous. Her mind could return to Aizen's control; her power could be used against her friends; her soul could be turned into an Arrancar.

In the meantime, there was always the chance that Kurosaki the Hollow would flip out and kill her.

"Aizen won't let that happen," Orihime said.

"Why do you always defend him?" Ishida clenched his teeth. Was her attitude a cruel, miserable side-effect of having believed she was Aizen's daughter? "If he finds some way to make the hougyoku work to maximum effect _without you_, you're dead in an instant. And who's to say you won't be dead anyway? That he doesn't even need you at all? That all this healing stuff he's been making you do hasn't been some sort of sick game? Theatrics, maybe? Maybe you didn't heal Luppi? You know how Aizen can work illusions."

"I felt Luppi-san's reiatsu."

Ishida dropped himself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Being irrefutably in love with Orihime wasn't helping matters at this point. His mind felt less focused on figuring out the enemy's game plan than on running his fingers through her hair.

"Don't worry," she said. She closed her fist--it was empty of the hougyoku but it nonetheless made a determined _"go team_" gesture.

When Ishida gave her an uncertain, surrendering look, she walked over and kissed him on the forehead.

"Things are all happening for a reason," she said. "Me and you are happening for a reason."

M_e and you._ That's what she wanted to call it, but he gave it another name in his mind. And he considered the supreme irony that _it_ was happening here, in Hueco Mundo …. Love in the cold, arid world of the Hollow.

"You've been looking for the hougyoku for seven days now," Ishida said. "Las Noches is huge. It will take you months to search all the palace for that thing."

Orihime had the idea that the hougyoku was hidden somewhere. That Aizen could not carry it on his person because it would drain his power the way it had with Kuchiki-san. Remembering how the hougyoku, in some combination with the gigai Urahara had given Kuchiki-san, had been turning the Shinigami _human, _Ishida had to concede that Orihime's reasoning might be sound. But who was to say that the gigai _alone_ had not been responsible for the power draining? Ishida still believed that the hougyoku was buried inside Aizen's wicked soul.

Shortly after the assembly where she revived Luppi, Orihime had decided the hougyoku was in one of the high towers of the palace. "Maybe if I come closer to it," she had argued, "I can materialize it, and then we can leave--_leave right away for home, Uryuu_. Aizen will be powerless and the winter war will never happen."

She had prowled the palace at night in her long cloak, searching for the scent of the mysterious object. Unbeknown to her, Ishida--hiding his reiatsu as best as possible and wearing a similar cloak--had trailed her, ready to draw his bow.

But they had never found anything. Nor encountered any suspicious Hollow or Arrancar. Neither had Aizen--if he knew anything about their wanderings--said a word or seemed to mind at all.

"Are you going again tonight?" asked Ishida.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Oddly enough, although Ishida had not drawn his bow while in Las Noches and was still pretending to be a helpless collared slave, he felt more like a man than ever before. He looked around the scattered clothes and blankets on the bed, found the embroidered bath towel, and tossed it at Orihime.

"Let's take a bath," he said. It still made him shy to say things like that, but the words made his heart race. The anticipation of nakedness trumped any hougyoku intrigue.

Orihime fingered the folds of the white towel and looked unusually thoughtful.

O_h no, she doesn't want to get naked with me. She's bored of me? What's wrong?_

Orihime was tracing the embroidered kanji with her forefinger. "Uryuu," she said in an excited voice. "I know where the hougyoku is. _It's in the library."_

The panels hanging in mid-air showed the white-cloaked figure climbing the stairs of a faraway palace tower--another cloaked figure a few hundred paces behind her.

"She's not a bright girl," said Aizen. "She knew that little white hood could disguise her from most of the guards, but she did not expect surveillance. It was not by chance that Ulquiorra detected her on this one sweep of palace security a few days ago." Aizen's smile was faint and fond. "She did not know that I would recognize her from the very shape of her shoulders and size of her steps."

"Who's the other figure?" asked Gin.

"I suspect it's her pet."

"Ahhhh," said Gin. "He's trying to find the hougyoku too. Don't know what he expects he'll do with it, but the princess obviously doesn't trust him or else he wouldn't have to trail her the way he does…."

"Childish games," said Aizen. "Alright, Ulquiorra, that's enough."

The panels dissolved, and the small Espada responsible for their images bowed his head. "Anything else, Aizen-sama?"

"Stay here a moment," Aizen commanded. "I would like to assess your strategic skill. Tell me, Ulquiorra, what would you do about this servant boy who obviously still has malicious intent against our forces?"

Gin put his feet up on the far end of the sofa. "I'd kill him," he said. "I would've killed that boy long ago."

"Long ago would have been a different situation," said Ulquiorra. His voice was soft and impassive. "At this point he matters very much to the princess, and she would be in a sorry emotional state were he killed. As Aizen-sama has stated before, Orihime-sama's happiness must be maintained for the sake of her creative efforts."

Gin smiled and smiled. "So says Aizen-sama. I think he's got a crush on her."

"In any event," said Aizen, "knowing that the girl values this boy makes him our hostage in any bargaining situation. I had originally planned for Ichigo to play this role with Orihime, but now that's she discovered the thrills of romance with another young man, well…."

"She doesn't trust him," said Ulquiorra. "She does not let him accompany her while she's looking for the hougyoku."

"Trust is won less easily than a few kisses," said Aizen, and he looked at Gin while he spoke the words. "I dare say that my own daughter doesn't trust even me, or else she would have told me that she's been prowling the palace in search of the hougyoku. But this is her little adventure into independence. I expected it."

"You don't suspect…?" Gin looked skeptical and brushed his hand through his silver hair. "You don't suspect that she and the boy are up to something together?"

"Nonsense. Remember Hinamori-kun?"

The name sobered Gin for a second. Ulquiorra, who had no memories of Soul Society, remained impassive.

"I know love in a young girl's eyes when I see it." Aizen went on. "Orihime serves me and my vision, still. She's merely impatient for her full powers to see fruition."

Aizen leaned into the sofa and beckoned for Ulquiorra to approach. From his own end of the huge sofa, Gin sat up on one elbow and watched the Arrancar kneel and lay his face--the mask-less side with the black hair--in Aizen's lap.

Aizen stroked the white horn on the Hollow part of Ulquiorra's head. "Orihime is merely indulging some childish curiosity about the hougyoku and thinking that she can keep that from me. When she is an Arrancar, of course, such tiny rebellions will be unthinkable."

The Hollow slew other Hollow in the battle trials of Hueco Mundo. It was not sport, merely a way to pass the time. Arrancar were more of a challenge but not by much; only the Espada could throw him to the ground. Of the Espada, only Ulquiorra could outwit him every now and then, but day after day, he had spilled the blood of Aizen's favorite Espada on the ground.

The Hollow had believed that existence beyond the Inner World would be satisfying. He had believed that a human's body coupled with a Shinigami's blade would arouse his natural hunger for power. He had believed that feeding this hunger with Death was his only obvious goal.

But now, he wondered if there was anything else he wanted.

The Hollow wanted to fight Aizen, but he knew he had to wait. When he approached Aizen, he felt the incredible pressure of the man's reiatsu and lusted for combat, but Aizen always said, "We are uneasy allies now against the humans and the Shinigami. One day, Ichigo, it will be a contest between you and me for the kingship of All That Is."

The Hollow knew how to wait. He had waited for a long time in the Inner World, waited for the Other's weakness, waited for an opportunity to steal command.

What the Hollow did _not_ know how to do was fight an opponent who did not carry a blade. Was Aizen fighting him already with trickery and cunning?

The Other's voice was silent now. The Other slept in the sand.

S_pare Inoue._

S_pare Ishida._

The Hollow avoided the human pair. It was the only thing to do. It was best not to risk rousing the Other. It was best not to complicate matters by allowing any opportunity for Aizen to engage in mind-fuckery. Aizen was a manipulative man; he would fight not only with his own strength but with his ability to deceive. That _who is it you long for? _nonsense could only effect the Other, not _him._

Then one morning the Hollow had seen them--the pair of humans--in a way he had not expected to see them. At first he had not recognized them. They were wearing hooded cloaks and were wandering a part of the palace only servants and laborers traversed. Their movements were not unusual, except for the fact that every so often the taller figure at some paces back would touch his sleeve and stiffen his spine. _Ishida_. About to summon his bow. The Other had seen that alert gesture a thousand times. No one else in Las Noches, not even Aizen, would have noticed it. And the figure in front--that had to be Inoue from the way Ishida seemed to be guarding her.

Inoue would sometimes walk through a wall as if it were invisible. _Barriers_. Hadn't the Espada said something about her talent being barriers? Her guard Ishida would lose her for a moment or so, but he always caught up with her.

That morning the Hollow, out of idle curiosity more than anything else, had followed the figures back to the princess' rooms. Ishida had made it to the entryway first and had dropped his hood when Inoue rounded the corner.

"_Uryuu! Why are you dressed like that?_ _Were you going to follow me?" _

"_Yes, I worry about you going out alone."_

"_I told you. You must not follow me. Promise me you won't follow me."_

They had talked in hushed tones, and then Ishida reached out and touched Inoue's face.

"_Orihime…."_

The Hollow knew what the Other would know. He called her by her first name. He touched her so freely. Ishida and Inoue were ….

The humans kissed.

The Hollow had felt a strange moan from the Inner World then. Not as if the Other was rising but as if a bad dream had shaken sand out of his mouth, pride out of his ears.

A small, slender girl with dark hair and intelligent eyes materialized before the Hollow's eyes. A ghost? A memory?

R_ukia._

At that thought in his brain, the Hollow had flown, in a sudden burst of white reiatsu, to the farthest side of Las Noches.

The library was located at a far distance from Aizen's rooms and, surprisingly, not guarded. It was a small room, filled with only a hundred or so scrolls and books from different eras, and Aizen's desk stood in the center. Here was where the leader of the Arrancar, uninterrupted by subordinates, spent a good portion of his time in Las Noches.

Orihime found Aizen's chair, sat in it, and, closing her eyes, held out her palm for a long while.

"Anything?" Ishida finally asked.

"Let me keep trying," said Orihime. "I sense Aizen. I sense Urahara-san for some reason. I know the key to everything is here."

Ishida ran his hand across an open scroll. "These items were taken from Soul Society," he said. "Maybe transported to Hueco Mundo before Aizen himself ascended."

He decided that he had some reading to do.

The Hollow dared not sleep anymore. The Other walked in his dreams. A slouching boy with hands in his pockets. Endless afternoons of rain, rain, rain. A time before Kurosaki Ichigo had become a Shinigami. The tragedy of adolescence and a book bag full of assignments in some incomprehensible language.

The Inner World was windless and still.

The world of Las Noches was blood and white walls and a total bore.

Yet somehow in all this waiting and boredom, the Hollow knew that the Other could rise again. He knew the source of the threat to his kingship of the body.

He decided: _I have to kill Ishida and Inoue._

"The hougyoku," said Ishida, "appears to manipulate matter through some sort of time-acceleration. I don't understand much of this, of course--and Urahara-san made some very sketchy, probably deliberately obtuse notes here--but when he put the hougyoku in Kuchiki-san's body, the object was somehow _anticipating her soul's return to the Living World._ Therefore, it was transforming her into a human body from her Shinigami soul."

Orihime was still holding out her palm, but she opened her eyes at that statement. "Aizen-sama has always told me that my own powers do not have anything to do with time-space manipulation. He says I _create. _He says that when I heal I _reject_ the injury and remake a whole body part or section of new flesh."

Ishida looked up from the scroll and stared at the wall. "I think that you really can heal Kurosaki."

"Really?" Orihime put down her palm and was all-attention.

"I also think that in conjunction with the hougyoku, you may be able to express powers of time-reversal. This is all theoretical, of course. I don't see how it can possibly be done, and certainly getting the hougyoku in your hands might initiate these powers…."

"We have to help Kurosaki-kun!"

"Actually…." Ishida frowned and hesitated to speculate but he couldn't help himself. "I was thinking that if the hougyoku could be returned to Urahara then maybe your powers could make it reverse situations… situations such as… the battle where Rukia died and Hollow Ichigo was born …."

"Oh that would be amazing." Orihime dropped her hands in her lap. "Then your father would come back too… and…." She startled at a thought. "If we went back in time, though, Uryuu, would we remember what happened here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean _me and you_."

Ishida was quiet a moment and then said, "I don't know. There are obviously some things that are more important than me and you. Certainly, we fight in a war with the risk of losing our lives. We need to risk our lives and more in order to defeat Aizen."

A sudden stir of wind at the door made Orihime and Ishida turn to look.

"Defeat Aizen?" came a wry, amused voice. "What have we here? A couple of teenagers sneaking around in Aizen's private library?"

Orihime gasped. "Gin-sama!"

"Oh, don't be afraid," said Gin. "You haven't done anything wrong by coming here. This library has been open and waiting for you for a long time. Aizen was expecting you to come here and nose around. He wanted you to."

Ishida lifted his arm so that his sleeve dropped and his Quincy bracelet was visible.

"What Aizen didn't expect," Gin said, "was that you would come here with your _boyfriend. _And he didn't expect was that you two would be plotting against him."

_TBC_


	11. Chapter 11

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: This A/U begins from the time Orihime was kidnapped and taken to Hueco Mundo, only the events preceding the immediate kidnapping are slightly different (as revealed in this story) This fic is an adventure romance featuring Ishida and Orihime, but there is also implied Ichigo/Rukia and Aizen/Gin.

Warnings: References to character death, teenage sexuality, homosexuality, and magical crystal objects. If any of these things bother you, you have been warned.

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist_

Part Eleven

Gin folded his arms and smiled at them.

Orihime's chest filled with fear. She saw the six spokes of Ishida's bow materialize and was certain he was going to shoot, but he didn't.

"_NOW,"_ he hissed at her.

She grabbed his arm pulled him backwards. They fell into another white-walled room. Ishida rose to his feet, took Orihime's arm, and yanked her to a standing position.

"We're still in Las Noches," Ishida said. "I meant _home_. I meant _take us back now."_

She couldn't do that. Not while there was still a chance to save Kurosaki-kun. Not while there was still a chance to get her hands on the hougyoku. And she wouldn't let anything happen to Uryuu--no, she wouldn't. She threw herself against his chest, and the two of them fell into another part of the palace.

This time they were alone in a long, empty corridor.

Ishida lay on the floor with Orihime on top of him. "You can't keep doing this," he said. "It's over. Time to abort the whole hougyoku search."

She put her hands on his face and planted a brief, hard kiss on his mouth. "I'm sorry, Uryuu," she said and pushed her palms against his chest with all her might.

Ishida fell away, by himself, into another place, and Orihime was left, lying on her stomach on the cold palace floor.

I _had to._

Orihime squeezed her eyes shut and tried to fight tears as she rose to her knees.

A_izen won't hurt me. He won't. He won't believe Gin. He trusts me more than he trusts Gin. I know that._

She unfastened the top of her cloak and let it fall to the floor. There was no need to hide anymore. She stared at the puddle of white material and prayed for Ishida to be safe. Then standing up and holding her fingers out before her, she pulled the barrier apart as if it were a curtain. She walked right into the library where she and Ishida had been seconds before.

Scarcely a minute had passed when Lastimada and Almatriste rounded the corner and saw Orihime's cloak on the floor.

"She's in trouble," Almatriste said in a flat voice.

"It's not our concern," said Lastimada. "Aizen-sama will protect her."

"Aizen-sama put _us_ in charge of her," said Almatriste. She put her hand on the pommel of her weapon. "We've been allowing her to run around the palace with Uryuu, and that boy is too lovesick to be a proper guard for her. Every night she goes wandering with him behind her, and we've _allowed_ it."

"They're somewhere playing some romantic game," said Lastimada. She knelt and picked up a sleeve of the robe. "They're indulging their young appetites."

"No," said Almatriste. "Then where's the _boy's_ robe? They always come to her room to do that lover stuff. Querida doesn't want to put her Uryuu in any danger. She wouldn't be affectionate with him in public."

The two handmaidens looked at one another.

How could they know what other beings were like? The handmaidens only understood Hollow and their longing, Arrancar and their ferocity for battle. They could not understand Shinigami like Aizen, humans like the boy, and especially not their own princess with her odd, unpredictable demonstrations of emotion.

But once upon a time, layers away, behind the barriers of Las Noches and Hueco Mundo, in a past so faint it was like white writing on white paper in a forgotten language, the handmaidens had been human too.

Gin was still standing, arms folded, and he looked perfectly unperturbed when Orihime re-entered the library.

"I didn't think you would run away from your Gin-sama. I'm so glad you're back." A toss of the head. "So, where's the boyfriend?"

"He's gone," Orihime snapped. "You can't hurt him."

"You opened a barrier and dropped him right out of Hueco Mundo, didn't you? That was quite selfless of you. I bet you're going to miss him."

Orihime hesitated. She felt her hands cup her ears. Her fingers were touching her hairpins. "That's right. I pushed him out of here. He's safe and you can't--"

"Oh, we wouldn't have killed him, Orihime," said Gin. "Despite the low-down conniving bad influence that he was on you, he was an attractive young man with some fairly useful powers, and well…."

Gin hadn't unfolded his arms yet, so Orihime could not make a move in self-defense. She wondered when he would pull his zanpakutou… or if he would try to grab her to take to Aizen.

"He might have made a nice parlor pet for Sousuke," Gin went on. His smile withered slightly, and his voice dropped to a grumble. "Given how taken Sousuke is with that _bonehead _Ulquiorra, I would say he likes the type. Skinny, white… all sharp edges and narrow hips."

Orihime felt her hands starting to tremble. Damn her trembling--why did she always do that?

Gin's smile returned. "I myself prefer a more meaty body." His gaze dropped intentionally to Orihime's chest.

"What are you going to tell Aizen?" Orihime's voice steadied itself and grew louder. "I was in the library reading about my destiny. What is wrong with that?"

"I'm Sousuke's right hand man," said Gin. "You are, _apparently_, his very bad little girl. If I told him his little daughter was plotting against him and that she was an experiment gone bad, I don't see why he wouldn't listen to me and then slap your little bottom until you turned to dust."

"He wouldn't," said Orihime. Although by this point she had started to believe that Aizen might kill her. She had to believe that--or else how else could she aim to kill Gin? _She was going to have to aim to kill Gin. _Gin was the only one who knew the truth about her plotting, and his death could be explained as … an accident?

Murder? Was Inoue Orihime considering murder here? She didn't have time to think about it.

"You know," continued Gin in his airy tone, "who's to say that I _have_ to say anything to your father?"

"What?"

"I mean, the last thing in the world I would want to see is a pretty girl like you being obliterated from Las Noches. I really like you, you see." Gin unfolded his arms here and began to walk towards Orihime. "Maybe we can make a little deal."

He did not seem to have a violent intent. _Shoot Tsubaki,_ thought Orihime. _Do it now before it's too late._

"I once knew a little girl who looked a lot like you," said Gin. He was standing at arm's length away from Orihime now. "A soft, full-figured beauty with a lovely laugh." He held out his hand. "You can trust me, you see. I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

Orihime frowned. She wasn't going anywhere with Gin.

"I tell you what," he said. "You give me those hairpins, and I won't say a word about you and your boyfriend to your father." A shake of the head. _"Nada._"

The hairpins were useless to a power like Gin's. Why would he want them?

Gin's hand was a centimeter's length away from touching Orihime's hair. "Such pretty little pins and such terrible things they can do. Sending out little mean fairies out to chop up an opponent."

Orihime didn't know why she was allowing it. She _knew_ she couldn't trust him, but Gin was now touching her hair.

One of his long, bony hands swept down the strands, and his thumb patted her cheek. It surprised her, in a sickening sort of way, how much his fingers felt like Uryuu's.

"May I take the hairpins off myself, my dear? Look at your little hands trembling. You're too gentle a flower to handle these powerful things." Gin's face leaned forward.

"Too gentle and lovely a flower."

"_TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF HER,"_ came a hard, female voice.

Orihime looked over Gin's shoulder to see Almatriste there, pointing her zanpakutou at Gin. Lastimada was behind her, weapon drawn too.

Gin merely cocked his chin forward and, without turning around, flared his reiatsu so that both the handmaidens were thrown against the far wall of the corridor. Through the open library door, Orihime could see them struggle to regain footing.

"Excuse me," Gin whispered into Orihime's ear. He turned and walked to the library door. "Good job protecting the princess, ladies, but you must be running along now. I have business with her."

Almatriste raised her zanpakutou again. "Fight like a man, Ichimaru. Everyone knows you wield that little blade from a great distance. Fight me now, _up close_."

Orihime had run to the door and was shouting for everyone to stop, but it was too late. Gin had already drawn Shinsou.

"_Ikorose,"_ said Gin, and his blade speared Almatriste before she could even lunge one step towards him.

Almatriste fell to her knees, bleeding from her abdomen, mouth open and bloody. Orihime felt that her own mouth was open, but she could not shriek. She could not do _anything._

Gin turned to the other handmaiden. "You both die here," he said in a voice as casual as ever. "I can't believe so many of Aizen's experiments have gone wrong. Still, we have a fair success record here with our Arrancar. Your princess may make a fine one yet." He made a little snorting sound, as if amused with himself for talking to such a poor subordinate.

"You squinty-eyed, perverted _bastard,_" said Lastimada and she raised her blade over her head. "You lied to us."

"_Ikorose,"_ said Gin.

The word was no sooner spoken when a silver ray of light knocked Shinsou out of Gin's hand.

Ishida, bow drawn, stood at the end of the corridor. "_Coward,_" he said in an imperious voice. "There is no victory in slaying those who trusted you."

U_ryuu, you were supposed to wait for me!_ Orihime didn't regret not pushing Ishida out of Hueco Mundo for real, but she could not see how he could survive an opponent like Gin--even though Gin's zanpakutou lay on the floor for the time being. Her pushing Ishida into another part of the palace had only bought them time.

T_ime,_ thought Orihime. _I need the hougyoku if I'm going to do anything with time._

Ulquiorra, wearing a light sleep kimono that was white but not as white as his slender limbs, stepped out of Aizen's bedroom and touched a button on the wall.

A large panel dropped into the middle of the room and showed Gin standing over the bleeding handmaiden. The princess stood behind Gin, and at the end of the corridor was the human with his weapon drawn.

"What is it?" asked Aizen, appearing at the door.

"You were right, Aizen-sama," said Ulquiorra. "The reiatsu we felt was Gin's."

Aizen sighed, and the slight frustration in his sigh was uncharacteristic. Ulquiorra cocked his head at the strange sound.

"I knew Gin was in a mood," Aizen said.

The Hollow felt the swell of huge reiatsu when Gin knocked the handmaidens against the wall, and then he sensed the unmistakable concentration of energy that was a Quincy arrow ripping through the air.

A _fight!_

The Hollow threw back his head, and a mighty wind blew through his boredom and frustration.

As if he ever needed a reason to fight. Aizen was all about reason. Restraint, planning, anticipating. The Hollow was born for war. The Hollow was sick of holding back.

N_o one kills that Quincy before I do!_

Gin lost his smiling nonchalance at the sight of Ishida, but he still managed to look unruffled as he stooped to pick up his zanpakutou.

"What's the matter, boy? Why didn't you aim for my head? Are you that bad a shot or are you that soft a heart?"

"Silence!" shouted Ishida. "I will kill you if you make another move towards these women again."

Orihime had rushed to Almatriste's side and summoned her healing shield. Its golden aura reflected off the palace walls and lit the entire corridor. Even Gin was bathed in its light.

"That's some power you have there, princess," said Gin. "What amazes me is how you choose to use it. There's no good in healing the fallen, you see." He shrugged and made a gesture of holding his small zanpakutou high, at an unthreatening angle. "Everything falls down and is broken eventually. You can't stop Death."

"Please," said Orihime as she knelt next to Almatriste and held palms high to stabilize the shield. "Don't hurt anyone anymore. I'll do whatever you say."

"Orihime!" Ishida shouted.

"Oh stop with the dramatics, boy," said Gin. "You're not going anywhere."

At those words, Gin flared his reiatsu again and the walls shook. The handmaidens, Orihime, and even Ishida fell At the far end of the corridor, Ishida's bow shot a stray arrow into the high ceiling, and the weapon condensed back into his bracelet as his hands struck the floor.

The arc of golden light over Almatriste wobbled.

Almatriste shut her eyes and let out a moan.

"I have to heal her," said Orihime, and as she was struggling to her knees, Gin grabbed her by the arm.

With the hand that held his zanpakutou, he plucked the hairpins from her head as if they were real flowers.

"I said _leave her alone_." Lastimada had managed to rise to her feet and was staggering closer to Gin.

"Lastimada!" Ishida was aiming his bow from a low position, one knee on the floor and one foot balanced before his body. "Get out of the way!"

Orihime bent her head and called to the two fairies who were still within her realm. "_I reject, I reject, I reject…."_

The golden sphere over Almatriste expanded to twice its size, still trembling from Gin's reiatsu.

T_his is all my fault. I've made a big mess of everything, and now everyone is going to get hurt._

"Gin, that's enough," came a strong, sonorous voice.

Orihime looked up to see Ishida's eyes widening at the sound of Aizen's voice. Aizen was standing directly behind him. After a second of terror, Ishida's face looked as hard and full of cold resolve as she had ever seen it, and she feared for his life as she never had before. Ulquiorra was standing behind Gin. _Uryuu must sense the impossible odds._ She had to stop this all. She had to stop this _now._

Gin lowered his reiatsu and the walls quit trembling. Orihime's hands, though, were still shaking as she held them against her healing sphere.

"Sorry that you had to wake up for this," said Gin. "I was going to handle the matter all on my own, but it seems we've got a haggle of little traitors in our midst. For starters, these little defective Arrancar tried to attack me."

Aizen gaze swept placidly across the scene.

"Orihime," he said "If Gin says your handmaidens are defective, then there's no use healing them. I know you are fond of them, but I will get you others." Aizen turned his gaze to Gin and nodded. "Kill them."

"_Ikorose." _

Shinsou struck before the last syllable was out of Gin's mouth. The zanpakutou crashed through Orihime's shield and speared Almatriste as she lay there.

"_Ikorose."_

The second blow slashed Lastimada's side and cut her body into two halves. The torso toppled past the bottom half, and then both parts lay on a white Arrancar skirt. Blood seeped through the fabric and pooled on the floor.

"And now, my dear Gin," said Aizen, "tell me what trouble my daughter and this other servant of hers have caused you."

_TBC_


	12. Chapter 12

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: This A/U begins from the time Orihime was kidnapped and taken to Hueco Mundo, only the events preceding the immediate kidnapping are slightly different (as revealed in this story) This fic is an adventure romance featuring Ishida and Orihime, but there is also implied Ichigo/Rukia and Aizen/Gin.

Warnings: References to character death, teenage sexuality, homosexuality, and magical crystal objects. This chapter contains more violence than previous chapters.

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist. And this time, warm thanks to all of you have been enjoying and commenting on this story. I've been having a grand time writing it, and hey, that's what fandom is all about._

Part Twelve

Orihime knew that Aizen was capable of great cruelty, but she had never felt it directed towards _her. _

Telling Gin to slay her handmaidens like that. Why? His face didn't have the set jaw of someone who had just issued a severe command. If there was any sadistic intent, it was invisible. Did he really not care? Was killing people like drinking tea to him?

As she considered the horror of the situation, Orihime felt her tears dry and her trembling hands steady. _Do something, do something_. Gin was telling Aizen in a matter-of-fact tone that he had overheard the princess and her "boyfriend" plotting to get the hougyoku and return with it to the Living World. _Do something now, before it's too late._

"Orihime," said Ishida in a voice that sounded like it was coming from the other side of a dream, "you can heal them. You can change all of this."

Orihime did not want to see the grisly results of Gin's Shinsou, but she turned her face to her side and looked.

Again, she knelt to do what was as natural to her as breathing. "I reject," she whispered, and again, Ayame and Shonou flew, creating the golden shield over the dead bodies.

"I don't think so, my dear," said Aizen.

Orihime turned to the sound of that gentle, gentle voice. His expression was still fond even though Gin had revealed that his daughter was a traitor. Did Aizen want her to stop the healing? What had he expected her to do? He knew that it was well within her power to bring Almatriste and Lastimada back to life.

"Withdraw that shield," Aizen said.

Orihime stared, not understanding. Then she turned to Ishida for a cue. He would tell her what to do now, right?

As their eyes met, Ishida startled, as if something had poked him in the back, and Orihime realized that there _was_ something poking him in the back. Aizen's forearm was raised as if holding a weapon. Orihime knew--with an absolute clarity that chilled her--that Aizen's zanpakutou was going to end Ishida's life. Aizen had no use whatsoever for Ishida anymore. Whatever threat Aizen might make to coerce her into any action was meaningless. She _knew_ Aizen was going to kill her Uryuu regardless.

"Withdraw the shield or Ishida-kun will fall," said Aizen. His voice still sounded as though he were pronouncing endearments. "And no, you will not be able to resurrect him from the deathblow your father delivers."

Gin, against the wall, was grinning. Ulquiorra, standing behind Aizen, seemed detached from the whole scene. Were Ulquiorra's eyes closed? The unreality of Las Noches had never been so manifest; a Shinigami created new beings out of the Dead here, and these beings would usher forth the winter war that threatened all the people Orihime loved in the Living World. How could she have walked and laughed amidst such Evil?

"I am disappointed in you, Orihime," Aizen continued. "Your appetite for a human boy outweighed your love and allegiance to me. There's much to restore and repair in our relationship." A small sigh and the command spoken more firmly: "Withdraw that shield, Orihime."

Orihime did not withdraw the shield.

"I had hoped to bring you to your destiny without sorrow or regret, but birth pangs are inevitable when it comes to creation, I suppose. Your transformation to Arrancar will happen sooner than later. I can't afford to lose you to this childishness again."

Orihime could hear herself breathing. Her lips were parted and letting out even, shallow breaths.

"You can't challenge me and win, my darling girl. Only I know how to summon the hougyoku, and I hold the key to your true identity. You have no choice but to follow me."

A_izen is a liar._

Orihime looked into Ishida's eyes. "_Uryuu?" _

"It's alright, Orihime," he said in a voice so lovely and strong that the tears rose in Orihime's eyes at the sound of it. "I know you have to heal them. I know you won't choose between me and them."

W_hy is it that I always do the wrong thing?_ Orihime had resisted Ulquiorra when he came for her. Her resistance had caused all that carnage at the battlefield, hadn't it? She had not pushed Ishida out of Hueco Mundo when she had the chance; she had still believed in her futile plan and now he was going to die.

Orihime's shoulders shook, and the tears poured. She swallowed and could not speak.

"My poor Orihime," said Aizen. "I will take care of you. Withdraw the shield, and I'll make sure the boy goes back to the Living World. Where he can't interfere with our plans. Where he can resume the lost cause of opposing me."

"Orihime, no," said Ishida. "Don't listen to him. Keep summoning your power. I believe in you. You are… you can do it, Orihime. _Try_."

"That's enough, Ishida-kun," said Aizen. "You're just making it harder on the girl. Don't you want to live to see your friends and family again, my dear boy?"

Orihime's face fell against the healing shield, and she sobbed. Loud cries this time. What Uryuu was expecting her to do was _not_ as natural as breathing. She had tried so many times before to summon the hougyoku and failed.

Her body kept sinking against the shield. The golden aura wavered, began to dissolve under the weight of her upper body pressing it.

"Don't give up, Orihime!" said Ishida.

"Oh my," said Gin. "This is rather touching."

Orihime lifted her face again, and the healing orb sprung to its normal size.

"One last time, Orihime," said Aizen. "Withdraw the shield."

"I--I can't," said Orihime in a small voice. She forced herself to look at Ishida Uryuu and saw that his eyes were gleaming with faith in her.

"I love you," he said.

------

Sharp anguish, deep resounding pain. Orihime didn't see the blade stab Uryuu so much as she felt it. Aizen's zanpakutou ran through his flesh like a hand penetrating the surface of water. One smooth movement through his heart and out his chest.

His head fell, black hair dangling. Orihime had not seen his face as the blade went through. She could not see his face now--only the bowed head.

He stood for a moment, impaled before Aizen, and then the blade dropped him. It was over. Orihime felt his lungs fill with blood.

No horror, Orihime knew, would ever burn her soul so much. Her first thought was to deny the feeling.

I_t's alright, it's alright_, she told herself as she turned from the sight and looked into the golden light of her shield_. I won't have to remember this. I won't remember this._

"Uh oh," said Gin, and at that sound Orihime realized that her hairpins had flown out of Gin's hands and were circling her head.

I _won't remember this. I won't remember this._

She forced herself to look again. Uryuu lying there, blood everywhere, his beautiful hands cupped against the ground.

I _won't remember that I loved you._

Orihime stood up, leaving the golden shield intact over the handmaidens, and began to walk towards Aizen.

He extended his arm.

She put her palm out before her.

"I'll take care of you, my darling Orihime."

"_I reject!"_ It was a low, hissed command.

Then the hougyoku flashed, a ball of dazzling light over Orihime's palm.

-----

When had it been in Orihime's life that she began to suspect she had a destiny? In primary school, her unusual name had made her feel special. The teacher had told her that _Orihime_ was the name of a wishing star.

After finding that out, Orihime had wished for many things to come true. She had wished for her brother not to be so tired and worried about money. Each night that she slept on a futon in the main room in their shabby apartment, she wished for her own room. She wanted to decorate her four walls with posters.

Then came the strange night when Sora had been struck by a car. Forgetting that the event necessitated serious prayer and not girlish wishing, she had wished with all her might for Onii-chan to stay alive.

She had known, even before that night, that her wishes did not come true.

Wishes didn't come true, but Orihime had kept on wishing them--imagining that maybe, because her wishes were so strong, she could make them into prayers. She dared not _pray _for many simple things, like chocolate cake sales or rainless afternoons for Tatsuki's soccer practice, but it seemed alright to _wish_ for these small pleasures. The love in her heart was so fierce that it always surprised her when her wishes weren't realized--even when she was wishing that a dragonfly over the river would not zip away too soon.

Later, she had _wished_, not prayed, that Kurosaki-kun would notice her and like her back.

When Ulquiorra had told her that she was going to Hueco Mundo, she wanted to say goodbye to Kurosaki-kun (and perhaps to that deep dear wish that he would love her?), but she knew that she would not have the chance. She had believed, at that moment, that her life was over whether she shot Tsubaki or not. And so she released him.

The failure. The utter, miserable failure of that decision had broken Orihime's heart even before she saw her friends fall.

Whatever clue of a fantastic destiny Orihime may have had died that day and reawakened only in Las Noches. Aizen's lies, his gentle doting parenting, the four walls of a giant room that she decorated with ribbons and plastic flowers from the Living World.

U_ryuu, I wished so hard that you would believe in me. I wished so hard that you would let me stay in Las Noches and that I would find the hougyoku._

Orihime looked through the dense amazing glow of the object above her palm and saw Uryuu. He was motionless, no longer feeling any pain, a slight figure on the cold white floor. His faith in her was what had given her the strength to summon the hougyoku, and Orihime realized that one of her wishes, at last, had come true.

Could she change time? Could she undo Death and go back to far, far before she came to Las Noches?

B_ut I_ _want to remember that I loved you, Uryuu._

Her heart, in spite of her destiny, made another wish.

-----

Aizen's face looked stern now but still calm. "Gin, please take that away from her before she hurts herself."

"Oh, I'm not touching it Sousuke. It would burn my little hand." Gin was still smiling, and his reiatsu flared once more. The walls shook. The hougyoku itself shook over Orihime's palm.

"Orihime, just because you have it now doesn't mean that you know what to do with it." Aizen's words sounded like the perfect truth, but Orihime knew not to believe them. "Of course it fell into your hands. It was kept here, in the library, and you and the hougyoku have a bond. You still, however, need _me_ to use it."

"Ah!" Gin let out a little cry of delight. "There it goes!"

The hougyoku had rolled away from Orihime and was now hovering a few feet away from her.

"No!" Orihime willed it to return. Her arm stretched out, but Gin's reiatsu was too strong.

The hougyoku lost its glow and dropped with a thud onto the floor.

N_o_.

"I'm not touching it, Sousuke," said Gin. "You're going to have to kneel to get it, but if it makes you feel any better, I'll kneel with you like a proper subordinate."

T_his isn't happening. I had it right there in my grasp._

The two men knelt. Ulquiorra still stood, looking over their shoulders with the faintest glimmer of curiosity. Aizen picked up the small round crystalline object and put it into his pocket. When he looked at Orihime again, his smile was showing his teeth.

"Orihime, dear," Aizen said, rising. "It's time to come along now."

-----

O_rihime! Orihime!_

Those were not voices in her mind; they were the voices of Ayume and Shonou who had joined the others in orbit around her head.

Orihime looked to the shield that the two should have been maintaining over the handmaidens. The shield was gone. Almatriste and Lastimada were sitting up, looking dazed but very much alive.

O_rihime! Orihime! You don't need that glowy thing now! It gave you some of its power!_

Orihime looked at Aizen and wondered if he could hear her fairies. She _felt _more powerful, but would going back in time be as simple as falling out of Hueco Mundo?

"What do I do now?" she was asking the question to her fairies, but Aizen appeared to think that she was asking the question of him.

"You meet your destiny," said Aizen with a bright smile, and his own reiatsu began to flare.

Orihime could not breathe. She felt that she was going to faint from the spirit pressure. _No, no, it's not too late. I can still do it._

-----

Watching Ishida fall had made the Hollow grit his large teeth. _He was supposed to be mine!_

The Hollow had been hovering right above the scene when it happened. For a moment, the swell of spirit pressure from Gin and Aizen had been enough to deter him from entering the fray, and then curiosity about the glowy object had stilled his murderous intentions. It would be no use to kill anyone now with that damn girl here. Why did she have to heal everybody?

Now Aizen was firing up, and it looked like he was going to make some move towards the girl. To take her away? Wait. _Aizen was going to kill Inoue too?_

No way. It was time to roll.

"_Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"_ The Hollow swung down from the high ceiling and whipped his zanpakutou against the reiatsu-thick air. The pressure pushed him back. Gin and Aizen looked up and noticed him.

They were tough guys, these Shinigami, but not impossible for the Hollow to take on. He swung again towards them. This time his zanpakutou fell against Ulquiorra's mask, doing no damage beyond slicing off the horn.

The bone piece went flying, and Ulquiorra drew his own blade. It was too late, though; the Hollow had speared him clean through the chest.

The favorite Arrancar fell dead on the ground.

The Hollow stood, chest heaving with excitement, before Aizen and Gin. "The time has come, my friends," he said. "I've killed this one (he gestured to Ulquiorra with his chin) over and _over_, but now I need a better fight. Who's first? Aizen, are you ready for me? Or do you want your evening shadow to die first?"

"Evening shadow?" Gin smiled and smiled. "Me? Sousuke, is he talking about _me?_"

"This is not the time," Aizen said to the Hollow in a patient voice. He even lowered his reiatsu. "Why are you here?"

"Evening shadow?" Gin was chuckling. "Very poetic language for a Hollow."

-----

Orihime's palm was on her chest. She could breathe again. Aizen and Gin were confronting the Hollow, and their bickering language had replaced the suffocating noise of reiatsu in her ears.

She gave the Hollow one glance and did not see the eyes of Kurosaki-kun behind the mask. She knew he was still in there somewhere, though. _It will be alright_, she told herself_. I'm going to fix everything. You too, Kurosaki-kun._

She turned to her handmaidens.

"Take my hands," she said. "We're going away… to a better place."

Almatriste, despite her recent death, seemed to be regaining some composure. "No, Querida," she said quietly. "We belong here, not in the Living World."

"But…." Orihime's voice became frantic. "Aizen will--you might--you'll die here."

"_Kill me as I stand here!"_ The Hollow was shouting. "Or fight me now! I am sick of waiting, Aizen."

Lastimada took Almatriste's hand. "We served you well, Orihime-sama. That was what we were born for."

Orihime knew that there would be no convincing them to come. She closed her eyes and the power around her head spun into a halo.

Power. Destiny. Wishing and wishing.

Pain. _I reject_. Lies _I reject_. Your death, my Uryuu. _I reject. _All these days in Las Noches.

_I reject._

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Gin's hand was on her arm.

This time his reiatsu was no trouble to fend off.

I _reject._

Night opened into day, and Orihime fell, white skirt twirling around her waist, away from Hueco Mundo.

_TBC_


	13. Chapter 13

Invisible Writing

by debbiechan

Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, and Incandescens owns the imagination that gave me the scenario for this particular fanfic.

Description: This chapter is the last part of the story; it begins in Kubo Tite's canon universe but doesn't discount completely the events of this tale itself.

Warnings: None for this chapter, unless you have an aversion to poignancy.

S_pecial thanks to Incandescens and Finnigan Geist. _

Part Thirteen

Ishida's face and arms and legs were tingling. Exhaustion weighed down his entire body, and it took effort to open his eyes.

His father was leaning over him with a blank stare.

"You blacked out again," Ryuuken said. He exhaled a soft sound of contempt. "It's so stupid. You keep losing consciousness because you're hyperventilating. Remember to breathe correctly when you're exerting yourself."

Ishida raised himself to his elbows.

"No, don't get up." Ryuuken began to walk away. "Take a break." There was never any compassion in Ryuuken's voice when he said things like that, and Ishida wondered if there had ever been any compassion in the man at all.

"Uh." Ishida was sitting now, holding his head. "Thanks."

"I'm going out for a smoke." He patted his shirt pocket for a lighter. "Drink some water, Uryuu. Dehydrating yourself is as stupid as hyperventilating."

Ishida wondered if he would be able to walk the distance to the bathroom to get himself a glass of water. His lungs felt scorched because he was breathing so hard.

"Speed carries little significance in a lengthy battle unless you have stamina as well," said Ryuuken as closed the door. "We're going to have to work on your endurance."

Ishida managed to stand on shaky legs before collapsing to his knees. It was going to take _so much_ to prove himself to his father, but he intended to last another training session. He would have to use _ransoutengai _to lift up his limbs, and Ryuuken might call the method a cheap trick, but it was the only way.

A crescent moon shone in the window. Ishida shut his eyes against its light.

During all these weeks of training, the reiatsu of human, Hollow, and Shinigami had flared off and on in the skies. The noises of battle, the cries of pain. His father ignored them. Ishida knew that the recognizable spirit signatures of Kurosaki, Inoue-san, and Sado-kun still held strong, but he also sensed a new, strange threat in Karakura. Aizen? Hollow-Shinigami hybrids? He couldn't tell.

I _have a destiny._

The desire to prove himself as a Quincy surpassed fatigue. An immutable will outweighed his loneliness.

Ryuuken never felt this way, he thought with bitterness. _Save the living, earn a living, do something important with your life. _He'd heard these things from Ryuuken a hundred times.

Was there anything Ryuuken was willing to die for?

A few more dizzy moments and Ishida was walking steadily to the bathroom. When he got there, he leaned over the sink and let the water run against his face.

The soft sound pouring from the faucet reminded him of something but he wasn't sure what. It was a comforting sound; it demanded nothing of him but stillness. Yet leaning there, his thoughts wandered away from comfort … to what the next weeks might require of him … the Shinigami who went to his high school… the girl who cared so much for this Shinigami … promises, the importance of promises…. _I will never associate with Shinigami again._

He opened his mouth under the running water.

It would feel so good not to make any sacrifices. For once, not to feel obliged and bound by duty.

But he was a Quincy, and a Quincy would always do the right thing.

-----

"Rise and shiiiiine, Ichigo!"

A kick to the shin startled Ichigo awake.

"Damn it, Hirako. That hurt."

"You went ten seconds, bro," said Hirako. "Then you smashed your head when you fell on Kensei's mask."

Ichigo scratched his head. No blood, not even a bump. "How long was I out?"

"You missed dinner." Hirako smiled. "We saved you some pie, though. Kensei cooked a nice pie."

Ichigo tried to remember what day it was. How many more days until winter? How much time was left before the winter war?

"Ten seconds," said Hirako as he turned and walked away. "Not good enough, Ichigo. You're cool as a pimp when you got it under control." Hirako looked over his shoulder and touched the brim of his cap. "But when you lose it, you lose it _bad_."

"What does _that_ mean?"

Hirako put his hands in his pockets and walked away, whistling.

Ichigo sighed. He knew better than to harass Hirako with questions; the guy seemed only to get more obscure the more information he revealed.

It was late evening, and the crescent moon was already visible in the gray sky. Time to be heading back to the Visored warehouse. _Pie …._ Pie would be alright, but at the moment Ichigo was feeling unusually worried about the future. Better to just push through the present and fight, fight, fight--that was his way--

But what if that _Other_ inside him ever won control?

Ichigo shook the thought out of his head. Rukia had told him he needed to take charge and beat down whatever he was afraid of, and she was right. She was always right. Damn, maybe he needed her here to kick some sense back into his head tonight. Hadn't she said _"Just pull yourself together and roar?"_ And the rest: _"The Ichigo that lives in my heart would do that."_

In my heart. He hadn't mistaken the words.

There was a Hollow inside him, but there was something else too. The place that a little Shinigami with fierce eyes had made when she thrust her zanpakutou into his soul and awakened his powers. Whether Rukia was here in person to yell the truth at him didn't matter; her determination lived in that place her zanpakutou had made.

There was something else in that place too. A funny feeling, warmth and fullness. Ichigo shook his head and didn't dwell on it.

How much time was left? Didn't matter. He had to get stronger. Why? He had the responsibility as a friend, as a brother, as a son, as a Substitute Shinigami.

Damn that girl. She had changed his life.

-----

The day Almatriste was created, the hougyoku sputtered flashes of unusual gold light. Aizen noted that the object had not behaved this way during the incarnation of other Arrancar.

The subject was born naked and cognizant, healthy but without any significant reiatsu. She would make a fine palace guard. Her small size and humanish appearance qualified her for Aizen's service, in fact; Aizen preferred to surround himself with attractive creations over some of the large, toothy beasts the hougyoku created.

After this morning's demonstration of the hougyoku's powers and the birth of the latest batch of Arrancar, Aizen and Gin walked together to the palace library.

"I have a suspicion," said Aizen, "that the hougyoku has already been defying the parameters of the possible."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that the girl has any control over it yet," said Gin.

"Of course not," said Aizen. "She's a total innocent. I hardly expect her to put one iota of resistance to my plans."

"No need, then, to send a big gun like Ulquiorra to fetch her."

"I only trust my top soldier in situations like this," said Aizen, and Gin lost his smile at that remark.

Almatriste was assigned to a room with another small Arrancar named Lastimada. When Lastimada mentioned something about curtains missing from the windows, Almatriste wondered if her roommate, too, _remembered it all_. But no, Lastimada had no unusual interest in Living World things and had merely been noting the ugliness of barred windows.

Almatriste remembered everything--that her mistress was named after a wishing star, that her mistress had held up her palms and radiated life and healing over the suffering and the dead.

Almatriste also remembered that Aizen had trumped by a young girl with a special power and distracted by a noisy Hollow who wanted to fight him. Somehow, Orihime had gotten away.

When Lastimada slept, Almatriste wondered if and when all other Arrancar would wake up to the truth. That their leader was a liar. That Aizen would never lead them anywhere except into Hell.

H_e will not triumph_, she spoke to the crescent moon in her window. _I hope, as the human boy hoped, that you are safe wherever you are._

A thin cloud covered the moon, and the sky was all black without stars.

S_tay safe, Querida._

-----

Orihime was dreaming about how brave and determined Kurosaki-kun had looked when she last saw him in the Visored camp. His narrowed eyes, his firm handsome jaw. The enormous power that seemed under his exquisite control.

Then Orihime opened her eyes and saw Kuchiki-san.

"You fell asleep," Kuchiki-san said. She was smiling. Her face looked exceptionally beautiful--eyes shining and cheeks radiant and oh so alive and happy.

Orihime sat up and saw the green fields and blue skies of Soul Society. Captain Ukitake was having tea on a nearby grassy hillock.

"I wear out so easily, Kuchiki-san."

"Nonsense! You just needed a break. Anyway, stamina's a good thing to work on. Strength and speed don't matter much in the long run if you don't have stamina. This winter war is going to require all of us to be at our toughest."

Orihime rubbed her eyes. "I _want _to be tough."

"I have faith in you," Kuchiki-san said, and she started to run across the wide green field. "Let's get going at this again," she shouted. "When you can't see me, fire Tsubaki. We're going to test his long-range today."

I _have faith in you. _Had anyone ever said that to her before? Orihime couldn't remember, and the words gave her a damp feeling--as if clouds of humid weather were passing by.

She held out her palm to check for rain.

No raindrops touched her hand, but she felt as if something else was supposed to. She sat on the ground with her palm outstretched.

I_s something important supposed to happen to me, or am I supposed to **make** something important happen?_

She brought her palm to her face and looked at it. _Destiny. _Was there really such a thing? Could gypsies read events of the future just by looking at those lines and marks on a person's palm?

W_hat is my destiny?_

It was just beyond her reach. It was right there behind a barrier she could not pass. It wasn't another world but a story that had yet to be told.

A story in invisible writing.

_END_


End file.
